


How to Survive the Ravens' Nest

by A_Minyard



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Any warnings for the series apply here as well, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Exy obsession, M/M, Slow Burn, This is the Nest we're talking about so this will get dark if I can help it, Torture, You get the idea, at least it was supposed to be slow burn we'll see what happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2018-11-10 21:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Minyard/pseuds/A_Minyard
Summary: Nathaniel Wesninski has spent half his life running from his mobster father. When his past finally catches up with him, it isn't what he expects. Trapped at Castle Evermore and given no choice but to play for the best team in the league, Nathaniel fights for his sanity on the cult-like team.Captain Riko Moriyama is bent on breaking Nathaniel under his heel, but he isn't Nathaniel's only threat. The team is full of brutal players and Kevin Day's personal pick has his eyes on the new kid. He may have been running from his father, but if Nathaniel doesn't play his cards right, he might not make it out of Castle Evermore alive. Nathaniel loves Exy with everything he has, but is it enough to live for when the price is his freedom?





	1. You Could Be Court

**Author's Note:**

> come_on_eileen is my beta for this fic and she is doing such a great job. Thank you!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew never found out that he has a brother or cousin. When Kevin comes to recruit him to the Ravens, things aren't how they should have been.

Kevin had seen his stats. Any school would have to be blind not to notice Andrew Doe. He was the best high school goalkeeper west of the Rocky Mountains, and currently on trial for murder. Kevin had been watching him since he started to climb through the charts a year before, and had offered him a contract late last winter. The Ravens hadn't received a response, and now they knew why.

Andrew Doe sat across Kevin Day with a thick sheet of glass between them and looked through Kevin like he wasn't even there. It was awhile before Andrew actually picked up the phone.

“I assume you know why I'm here,” Kevin said through the glass.

“To waste my time?”

“You have a lot of time to waste. I'm sure you can spare me a few minutes.”

“I'll spare a lot less if you don't hurry the fuck up.”

Kevin watched him, unruffled. Andrew probably would have preferred to speak to Kevin face to face where he was free to swing if he got tired of watching Kevin's mouth flap.

“We sent you a contract. You refrained from giving us an answer. I came here to get one.”

Andrew took an exaggerated look around, as if taking it all in for the first time. “I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not in a position to play for you. Or are you blind as well as dumb?”

Kevin leaned in. “I don't know if you noticed, but I always get what I want.”

Andrew gave no hint of interest. “I bet you do, Kevin Day, Future of Exy. But you can't have me.”

“I want you. I want you to play for me. Ravens only recruit the best, and you're it. Give me the word, and I guarantee you'll get out of here.”

Andrew leaned forward, slow and calculated. “You do understand what I'm in for, right? You sure you want a murderer on your court?”

Kevin returned his stare without hesitation. “No, I came to prison to recruit a good Christian boy.”

Andrew gave him a small, cold smile that didn't reach his eyes. “Well, I don't like people that expect others to give what they won't dole out themselves. What a hypocrite. Don't tell me you want my best when you've relegated yourself to second your whole life.”

It stung, but Kevin didn't let Andrew get a rise out of him.

“Speaking of, I know he's here. Don't tell me Riko's afraid to talk to little old me.”

“You are my concern, not his.” Riko was out of sight behind Kevin, and he wasn't surprised that Andrew knew that. It was a standard that they went everywhere together.

“I would never play for you. I don't like games. I don't like teams. I don't like Exy, and I don't like you. Go away.”

Kevin took a breath to calm his temper. If it were anyone else, Kevin would have given up, but there was no price too high for this kind of chance, this much potential.

“Alright, you don't like me. You don't have to like me. Who gives a shit? You can hate me and my whole team. We don't care. Be as brutal as you want. You've seen our games. No one will expect you to play nice, but you're facing ten years in prison. Not juvie, like you've been to before. Prison, with no outlet for your anger. You're telling me you'd rather get locked up and fucked every which way but up for the rest of your life than play for the best team in the league for five years and be set for life? I can't believe that.”

Andrew didn't look away and didn't change his expression. “One prison for another, Day. I don't sell myself out, especially not to rich, arrogant jocks like you.”

“You'll fuck yourself over for free, you mean.”

“We are done here.”

Kevin slammed his hand against the glass before Andrew could hang up the phone and walk away.

“Don't do this to yourself. Regardless of what you think of me, you don't have to do this. You're worth so much more than this. Give yourself a chance.”

Kevin paused for a moment and breathed deep, willing Andrew to understand through the glass that separated them, willing him to feel how powerfully Kevin believed in his ability to succeed.

“You could be Court. You could be the best goalkeeper in the game, not just in California. I've never seen someone with so much potential. Don't throw it away.” He wanted to say, believe in me. Believe in this. Let the game take you where you could go, but the way Andrew looked out at the world was like he saw land mines everywhere with utter certainty, and was just biding his time until they blew up in his face.

Andrew was still and quiet for a long minute and gave no hint of his thoughts. When he didn't respond, Kevin leaned back in the chair.

“I'll give you one week to decide. I've left my personal number for when you make a decision.” Then he got up, and walked away before Andrew could say another word.

Eight days later, he got the call. The deal was cigarettes and a bottle every week, for starters. Kevin paid off the prosecution, and the judge determined that Andrew's actions were in self defense. Andrew was his for five years.

When Kevin gave Riko the news he wasn't hesitant about letting his disapproval be known. “He is going to be a problem. I expect you to handle it.”

“I'll take care of it. He's worth it, trust me.”

Riko nodded. “Don't disappoint me, Kevin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a prologue to a fic I'm writing, mostly from Neil's perspective, but I had to see how Kevin and Andrew reacted to each other. Aaron and Nicky are at PSU, and by the time Neil shows up at Evermore, Andrew is already there. Some shit happens. I'm having fun so far.


	2. Lost and Found

“Nathaniel Wesninski.”

If his name hadn't jolted him to waking, the rough hands that held him against the wood floor would have.

Shit, shit. He ordered himself to breathe and not scream, to not give into the panic currently pushing him into overdrive. He thrashed and kicked and pulled and drove limbs into his attackers, but there was no give with two men grabbing his arms and one on his legs.

His father. It had to be his father, except Nathan Wesninski hadn't been released from prison yet. Had he? How had he missed that?

One of the men tugged on Nathaniel’s hair. He scowled at the pain and peered into the dark as his death flashed before his eyes. This would not be easy. This would not be quick. He did his best to steel himself anyway. A runaway orphan with no friends and no purpose, killed in an empty house, his body tossed in a meat grinder or fed to pigs or maybe deposited in several different areas of the Chesapeake. If he lived that long.

It wasn't his father. The man towering above him was head to toe in black and aged at least ten years, but even in the dark, Nathaniel knew him immediately.

“Coach Moriyama?” he rasped. He couldn't afford to be relieved when he was held at the feet of an older man, but hope nevertheless hung like a life raft in his belly, unwelcome and waiting all the same.

“Do not presume to speak. You have cost us a great deal of trouble looking for you. We are leaving.”

Nathaniel was not so much pulled to his feet as dragged through the house he was squatting in this spring. Had been squatting in. They left through the back door and into a black van waiting at the curb. If he wasn't so scared, he would have laughed at how cliché it all was. Was he laughing? He must be, because they were driving their fists into him until he was doubled over and dry heaving, and then he remembered no more.

 

Two young men's voices drew him from wherever he'd been. For a moment, he wanted to believe that he had fallen asleep on the bleachers at practice, but Exy had never left him aching like this. It hadn't been this hard to breathe for a while. The pain wracked his chest. He had had worse, so he wasn’t worried about the current state of his body, but he couldn't place the foreign language. It was back and forth, not directed at him. That couldn’t be counted as good or bad, and he couldn't let himself be relieved, either.

Maybe his father had recruited younger men in the last several years. Maybe that was how he’d been caught. There was no other reason for Tetsuji to have taken him in the middle of the night, if he wasn't planning on handing Nathaniel over to his father.

It was so dark that Nathaniel wasn't certain whether he had opened his eyes until he spotted a clock on the wall, the military digits glowing red. Four in the afternoon- the next day, or the day after? Not that it mattered. He would be dead soon anyway. He told his heart to calm down, focused on slowing his breathing. He could just barely see the outline of the door. Nathaniel flexed his fingers at his sides and found his wrists free of bonds. That was weird.

Dim red light hummed to life on his left.

“Hello, Nathaniel.”

He turned to the voice and regretted it immediately. Riko Moriyama sat on a bed opposite Nathaniel and regarded him with his usual haughty expression, vice captain Kevin Day beside him. Kevin looked at Nathaniel as if he were a pile of ants crawling on his bed. He should have been surprised that it wasn't his father, but it was shocking to see the pair after all these years. Nathaniel had watched them grow up on the news, sick with jealousy of their Exy destiny while terrified of seeing them again all the same. They were attached at the hip back then and ten plus years hadn't changed that.

Nathaniel pushed himself up to a sitting position and ignored his body's protests as well as the high speed anxiety drumming in his chest and wrists. He needed to be ready to run when the chance came. If he was right, there would be much more than a little beating. This discomfort would be nothing.

“It's been awhile,” Riko said.

The last time they’d all been together, his father had hacked a man to pieces in front of them. Nathaniel thought he smelled blood, but whether it was the memory or from his own body, he wasn't sure. Then he noticed another tall figure in the corner and his heart lurched into his mouth before he placed the face and the “3” tattoo on his left cheekbone. Jean Moreau leaned against the wall, silent and watchful.

He wasn’t tied down. Possibly the door was locked. His best guess was that he was at Castle Evermore because of Riko’s group, but he didn’t know the layout well enough to be confident of escape. His father could show up any minute. There was nothing to gain from waiting around. He didn’t care what the situation was. All he knew was that he needed to leave, if he had even the slightest chance. For all he knew, his father was down the hall, axe in hand.

He was at the door before they could grab him, but Jean was waiting for him. Nathaniel dug an elbow into his chest. He was fast but Jean was much taller than he was, and stronger, and he used it against him now to haul him back away from the door. Jean held his arms at a painful angle behind his back.

That smile that spread across Riko’s face lacked any warmth. It wasn’t the one saved for the press. Nathaniel hated these smiles, the hungry kind that filled the eyes with bloodthirsty glee and the promise of pain.

“You’re not very smart. Is running all you know how to do, Nathaniel?”

“Let me go.” He gave up on prying his arms out of Jean’s grip. If he moved at the wrong angle he would pull it out of its socket.

“But we’ve been expecting you.”

Nathaniel kicked out at him only for Riko to catch his leg and dig a fist into his abdomen. He would have fallen to his knees if Jean hadn’t been holding him up.

“I guess I missed the invite,” Nathaniel rasped, not as casual as he had intended.

“You didn't leave a forwarding address. We had to use other methods.”

“Why am I here, Riko?”

Kevin looked to Riko but said nothing.

“You are pleading ignorance? That is a foolish path, but by all means, indulge yourself. If we have to beat the truth out of you, we will.”

Nathaniel ignored the threat for the moment and focused on figuring out what was going on. If his father was here, Riko was of no concern to him. “Your uncle didn't elaborate when he picked me up.”

“We're interested in hearing your excuses first. They better be good. As it is, we'll have a lot of work to do with you.”

Work? Riko, Kevin, and Jean were Exy players. They hadn't been turned into torturers in his absence had he? The possibility was there, but then why the beds? Why hadn’t he been chained up? Apparently they hadn’t been certain whether he would run. Why wouldn’t he?

“I didn't know my father had Exy players on his payroll.”

Riko froze. “The fuck did you say to me?”

Kevin spewed something in the same gibberish from earlier. Kevin must have been trying to calm Riko down, because he relaxed about a tenth of the way and didn't hit Nathaniel like every muscle in his body was priming for. Riko responded in kind but didn't look away from Nathaniel.

They were wasting his time. He needed to leave before his father arrived.

Riko stepped forward and reached out, cupping Nathaniel’s cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed against his cheekbone where the group’s tattoo was.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” he spat.

Riko scrutinized him for a moment before cocking his head to the side. “You don’t know what you are, do you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Riko laughed then, spiteful and cruel in Nathaniel’s face. He dropped his hand and turned to Kevin. “He doesn’t know. You’re right.” He turned back. “How do you not know?”

Nathaniel really, really didn’t have time for this.

“Jean, go tell the master Nathaniel is awake.”

Riko stepped aside and Jean shoved Nathaniel into the room. As he left Riko moved to stand between him and the door.

“The master?”

“Coach Moriyama,” Kevin said.

He had a moment to process that before Riko looked to Nathaniel pointedly. “Take a seat.”

Nathaniel grit his teeth and Riko’s gaze flicked down Nathaniel’s form.

“Go ahead. Be my guest. I'd love to watch the master beat you nearly to death for attempting to leave. You won't get past that door, though. Would you prefer to be tied up? I can arrange that.”

“You keep talking about your uncle. Stop fucking with me, I don't need the suspense.”

“Are you so eager to die?”

“I'll be dead soon. It's out of my hands, so what does it matter?” Nathaniel returned Riko's smile with his empty one. This wasn't how he'd imagined his death. Had his mother died for nothing, if Nathaniel had walked straight into his father's hands?

“Well, you're half right. You'll find out soon enough.” Riko nudged his chin towards the bed. It took more strength than he thought he had, but he sat down.

“Your father isn't coming, Nathaniel,” Kevin told him.

“Bullshit.”

“You're going to play for us. That's why you're here,” Kevin pressed. It had to be some sick joke but he said it with a straight face.

“You want... what?” If Nathaniel had ever been graced with mercy, he would have thought this some bizarre dream.

“Not want. You are going to play for us. Back liner, like you were supposed to.”

It took him a moment to find his voice. “I can't. I'm not good enough.”

Kevin nodded. “Not yet, but you will be. You don't have a choice now.”

This was too much. The panic spilled over, fed by the absurdity of this whole thing. He shook his head, not sure whether his body was trying to laugh or cry. “Put me on as a back liner for the Ravens? My father would never go for that.”

Riko gave him a sharp look. “What your father thinks is irrelevant.”

Nathaniel didn't know how to react to that. The very idea was beyond the limits of what he understood reality to be, even if it seemed to be fraying at the edges in this room.

Riko took advantage of his hesitation. “Alright, Nathaniel. I’ll play along. Tell me who you are.”

“You already know who I am.”

Riko nodded. “Yes, I do. But you don’t. Humor me.” There was excitement in his eyes, like he had just been given a magnifying glass and couldn’t wait to burn the shit out of the puny ants at his feet.

“Nathaniel Wesninski.” He hadn’t said his name aloud in years, and it came out choked and foreign.

“Go on. What does your family do?”

Nathaniel’s heart hammered in his chest. To say these things aloud had been anathema for half his life. He couldn’t.

“Alright, then let me ask a different question. Do you remember the last time we met? When I met your father?”

The blood leaving his face answered for him. Behind Riko, Kevin blanched the same way, but Riko grinned even wider as if he cherished the memory.

“That’s hard to forget, I’m sure. Do you know why we were there?”

“No,” he said honestly. It was the question he had never been able to answer, one his mother had beat him for asking until he never mentioned it again.

“Someone came for me, to kill me. That was his punishment.”

What? “You?”

Riko apparently didn’t like Nathaniel’s reaction because he stepped forward, fist raised but the door opened and Riko stepped back immediately. Nathaniel could hear nothing but the blood rushing in his ears. He thought he’d be sick, but it wasn’t his father after all.

Tetsuji Moriyama strode into the room, ornate walking cane in hand and Jean just behind him. Tetsuji stood in the middle of the room and Jean took his post back against the wall, while Kevin rose to stand next to Riko beside the bed. Nathaniel’s hair stood on end. He saw no reason to make his death easier on himself so he remained sitting.

Tetsuji looked at Nathaniel but spoke to Riko in what Nathaniel realized must be Japanese. Riko gestured at Nathaniel and spoke in a rushed but more constrained tone earlier. Tetsuji went silent for a long minute.

“Nathaniel Wesninski. Come here.”

Nathaniel had never in his life willingly approached an older man with nowhere to run and he wasn't about to now. Tetsuji had good reach with just his arms, an even longer reach with that cane, and Nathaniel had no delusions about what was waiting for him. He fought back the fear that threatened to eat a hole through his chest and gripped the bed sheets without meaning to.

The cane knocked Nathaniel across the jaw, then again on his back so that he fell onto his hands and knees on the floor.

“You are going to tell me the truth now. Where have you been?”

Nothing added up. No one made any mention of his father being here. Why would they refrain from using against him that which Nathaniel most feared? Yet Nathaniel had spent too many years on the run, too many nights jolted awake with the fear that they'd been found, to believe that he'd been plucked out from that night only to be withheld from his worst nightmare. What was he missing?

Nathaniel grimaced a smile and knew what would come. “Everywhere.”

The cane caught him on his arm, then his other shoulder. His arms wouldn't hold his weight so that he dropped onto his face at the man's feet. Nathaniel picked himself back up onto his heels and tasted blood for sure this time.

“The truth, Nathaniel.”

“Either you kill me, or my father comes to do it himself. What do I care?”

“I have no intention of handing you over to your father. You are mine, and I want answers.”

Nathaniel looked up, unbelieving. What weird game was this? “You expect me to believe that?”

It caught him on the cheek this time and Nathaniel saw red even in the dim light. He hated more than anything being on his knees but he shook with the effort just to do that. That was bad. He needed the strength to run, even if he didn’t have a good chance. He would not wait on his knees for death.

“Do not question me. Are you pleading ignorance, or are you really so obtuse?” His tone gave nothing away as he watched Nathaniel take ragged breaths. “Did your mother tell you nothing?”

“We were running from my father. What else is there?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he didn't miss Kevin looking to Riko again. Riko raised his head as if in silent answer.

Nathaniel didn't like this lingering feeling. It was never good to be out of the loop. Surprises were never, ever good and fed hope too easily. He shoved it away as soon as he recognized it and stared up at Tetsuji.

The coach looked at him as if he were deciding whether to swat down a fly. “You will have your hands full with this one, Riko. You were supposed to be given to me when you first played on my court, had I decided you were worth my time. Instead your mother disappeared before I could sign off on you. She did not tell you?”

Nathaniel stared, dumbfounded for once. “I don't...” Sign off? The idea that he could have had what Riko and Kevin had was too much, and the blatant jealousy must have shown through because Tetsuji didn't hit him for that.

“Your mother did you no favors to raise you in ignorance. I am willing to believe you because you were a child, but this is of no use to me. I will talk, you will listen, and you will not argue with me.

“Your father, the Butcher, belongs to my brother, Kengo Moriyama. He is his right hand man. You were to impress me and I would take you, or your father would have killed you. Moriyamas do not like to encourage familial loyalty in their subordinates. You were given a chance, your mother squandered it, and here you are.”

Nathaniel wasn't stupid, but this was taking a while to process. His father, the Butcher, the terror of his life night and day, a right hand man? His brain rejected the idea as impossible, but that would explain why they had been in that room, why all three had watched a man hacked to pieces. Why his mother had hated his obsession with Exy. It even explained why Riko had lived with his uncle, why the first and second sons of each generation had been split. It was impossible, yet all of the pieces fit seamlessly.

Nathaniel looked at Riko and Kevin for the lie in Tetsuji's words, but all he saw was the awful confirmation in Riko's haughty smile and Kevin's derision.

When Tetsuji next spoke, Nathaniel didn't have it in him to ignore him.

“Do you understand what this means, Nathaniel? You belong to me and Riko. You have one week to impress me. If you succeed, for the next five years, you will attend Edgar Allan. You will be trained as a back liner on my team and forget that sorry show in Arizona. If you step one toe out of this stadium without my permission or fail to convince me that you are worth keeping, I will ship you off to my brother and your life is forfeit. Am I understood?”

University. Exy. Protection from his father. Nathaniel was being offered everything that he had wanted for years in the shadows, save his freedom. He had been running for so long. The idea of staying in one place, not even going outside, where they knew who he was and his father- no, his father’s boss- was only a phone call away was too much. He resented being backed into a corner, but if they were telling the truth, he needed to hold his breath and run when he had the chance. If it ever came. He couldn’t imagine ever getting a second chance.

His father really wasn’t coming. That thought reverberated in his head like it couldn’t quite stick, but it was slowly sinking in. Maybe it was that small relief that gave him the courage to be really stupid, because Nathaniel had only ever been owned by one person, and he wasn’t keen on bowing his head easily to anyone else. Even if they were offering him something incredible.

“Yes, I understand you’re an arrogant son of a-”

Nathaniel never got the chance to finish that sentence because his world went black with Tetsuji’s next swing.

 

The next time Nathaniel opened his eyes, his cheek rested against cool metal. For a moment he thought he had seriously miscalculated his value to Tetsuji. He figured if they had brought Nathaniel here, they wouldn’t just chuck him out, no matter how mouthy he was. It was Jean in front of his face, though, and past him wasn’t another van but a black on black locker room.

Nathaniel gingerly tested his temple. Everything hurt, but he didn't think anything was broken. Cool flesh pulling at his shirt brought him back to attention. He shoved Jean’s hands away.

He meant to say, “What the fuck are you doing?” but he wasn’t sure it came out like that. Jean didn’t seem to have any trouble understanding him, though.

“You need to get changed. We’re due on the court soon.”

“Court?” Everything was a little fuzzy, but he remembered where he was. It just wasn’t sinking in.

“If you have a concussion, they won’t let you sit it out.” Jean didn’t look angry, but his voice held no sympathy.

He couldn't really be expected to play with the best team in the league. The thought was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

“I'm not ready to play with this team,” he admitted.

Jean scoffed. “That's the truth. I saw videos of your Arizona practices. What a pathetic show. Here.” Jean tossed open a black locker that revealed Raven armor, padding, and jerseys and pressed one to Nathaniel’s chest. It read “JOSTEN” along the back, with the number 4 underneath.

“Josten?”

“Did you think they would let you play as a Wesninski?”

“Well, no.” Tetsuji may have taken Nathaniel, but he didn't need the FBI noticing that a high profile inmate's missing son had shown up on national television. Nathaniel held the jersey tight, as if feeling the material would convince him this was really happening in a way Tetsuji's beating hadn't.

“It is not too late for the master to decide you are worthless. I would suggest that you try not to fuck up or mouth off to Riko either, but you seem to lack self preservation instincts.”

“You're one to talk,” he grumbled. “What do you do, bend over for him every time he snaps?”

Jean went white at that, and Nathaniel's stomach plummeted. Jean's tone was icy when he spoke. “You've met Riko before, haven't you?”

“Once, when we were kids.”

“Then no, you haven't met him. Get dressed.”

Nathaniel looked around. No way was he about to strip in front of someone he'd just met.

“Privacy does not exist in the Nest. Listen to me.” Jean gripped Nathaniel’s already bruised arm in an impressive grip and didn't bother to lower his voice as he leaned down. “You do not exist by yourself anymore. You do not belong to yourself anymore. You are a Raven, and you are not going to make this any more difficult for me. I am not going to allow you to sacrifice my rank on this team. If you don't keep up, Riko won't be the only one you'll have to worry about. Where I go, you go. When you fail, I fail. When I win, you win. That is how the Nest works. You'll see. Now get dressed.” He leaned back just far enough for Nathaniel to change out without being touched.

Nathaniel hadn't changed in front of anyone beside his mother since... ever. His pride was sandpaper and bitter as he swallowed it and fumbled through his new gear. It only took Jean a minute to lose patience and help more than Nathaniel would have liked.

Somehow through the tightness in his chest and the familiar strum of anxiety in his veins, Nathaniel felt a sick thrill with the weight of the gear on his body. A jersey with his name on it, more or less. They were going to let him play? This could be his?

Then a stern voice corrected him somewhere in the corner of his mind and doused him with ice cold sobriety. This would never be his, because as Jean had said, he did not belong to himself anymore. The neck guard and the armor were beginning to feel more like both chain and cage. He would be locked in and protected from what was outside, but what would protect him from the monsters inside the cage? Nathaniel's only rescuer had died on the California coast, and there would be no one to save him now.

 


	3. New Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to come_on_eileen for being my amazing beta!!

When Nathaniel stepped onto the Raven Court for the second time in his life his breath caught in his aching chest. All in a moment he was ten again, awed by the immense stadium rising high, excited to play with kids his own age, arguing footwork with the two taller boys. Then there was only blood, his father’s mad grin as he hacked a man into pieces and Nathaniel was forced to watch, frozen and helpless in the face of unspeakable violence.

“Neil.”

He didn’t recognize the voice at first, but the urgency in its tone pulled him half out of the nightmare. Jean’s irritated face stared down at him.

“Don’t freeze up on me. Stow your nerves so we can play.”

“I wasn’t…” He shook his head. Jean knew who he was, but there was no point in explaining. “I’m not nervous.” That was a lie. He had told the truth earlier when he said he wasn’t ready.

Jean scoffed. “You should be. The master expects a lot from you,” he said.

Nathaniel looked across the court, filling now with Ravens, and up into the empty black and red stands, the scoreboards and replay TVs. This was the Ravens’ home base, but it was also the national stadium. He had expected Millport to be his one and only chance to play. Reality was reshaping itself in front of him. He had only just been about to graduate high school, running from his father in anonymity. He wanted to ask his mom why she’d never told him about the Moriyamas. He wanted some time to think about all of this, to eat and rest before he could embarrass himself on the court, but Jean was already leading Nathaniel past the plexiglass barrier. He wanted to run. All he knew how to do was run and he couldn’t.

On the coattails of that anxiety though was the impossible. He could have what he’d wanted for so long, and the proof was in everything Tetsuji had given him- the weight of the uniform on his aching body and the racquet in his hand. He’d watched Riko and Kevin from afar, sick with jealousy. He had imagined that they lived at some lofty height where that bloody room was the only dark spot in their history, that they had left it behind to live in excess, given everything Nathaniel never had. Success, something to live for, a home. It was different to see it up close. To think that this could have been his all this time, he couldn’t help but feel a little bitter about it, but he had it now whether he wanted it or not. He didn’t know why Jean was nodding at him as they lined up until he felt it on his face. He was grinning in spite of himself.

Riko didn't have to shout for everyone to listen to him. His voice was commanding and expectant but no higher than if he were having a conversation with Kevin rather than twenty one other people. “Our newest recruit just came in tonight. Neil Josten. I expect everyone to show him our Raven hospitality.”

Nathaniel felt every eye on him like a torchlight. He'd been allowed to keep his alias from Millport but Nathaniel still felt fidgety with so many people that he would have to hide his secrets from in plain sight. He was self conscious, too, without his contacts. He had gone to sleep without them and hadn’t been given any of his replacements.

They started off with laps around the court and Nathaniel was a stain on their perfect form. The Ravens ran in two straight lines at the exact same pace. If he hadn’t been knocked unconscious twice since Millport, he could have kept up. Nathaniel kept his eye on the jersey ahead of him as they trailed the walls and breathed through the pain in his legs and chest with every footfall. Every time Nathaniel slowed or stumbled, Jean grabbed his jersey and shoved him forward. It felt good to stretch after and rub his protesting muscles. He still felt like shit, but he’d had far worse.

Tetsuji watched from the side and ordered the team to fall in line for drills. Nathaniel did alright with the first few, but the last he had never seen before. The team divided up into small groups along the wall and set up cones in a line.

“Watch me,” Jean said.

Nathaniel’s head was splitting and it hurt now just to stand, but he watched as closely as he could. The coach called out numbers at a random number until they had had a chance to knock down each one. Jean’s first ball rebounded and toppled the cone back a few feet.

To knock over the cones in succession took not only power but impressive accuracy. He couldn’t imagine the purpose of needing this kind of precision. Still, a hot wave of envy curled up through his chest. It was almost enough to distract him from the pain there before plummeting into dread.

“How soon will he expect me to do that?"

Jean’s blank look was all the answer he needed. He helped Jean reset the cones and gather the lost balls and set up for his turn.

“Four!”

He swung his racquet as hard as he could and grazed the wrong cone. His arms were too weak for this. All the anxiety had eaten away any hunger he’d had and it dawned on him that he hadn’t eaten since the night they took him out of Millport. On his next try he missed by almost a foot. How was he expected to play when he was in this kind of shape? And why did he think for a that second-hand gangster rejects would care about his well being?

“Josten!”

Tetsuji’s voice send ice down his spine. The Coach was staring him down from the middle of the line.

“That was an embarrassment to your entire team. Do you think they’ll forgive that kind of inadequacy?”

“No.” What else could he say? He wanted the skill that Jean had. He wanted what they all had and it wasn’t his fault he didn’t get the chance until now. The court was quiet with judgment.

“You will do it again. All of you.”

“Focus,” Jean told him, but it didn’t do much good. They went through five more trials before he realized that they were all going to do the drill until Tetsuji was satisfied. Every dirty look sent his way held the promise of retaliation. His chest filled with the heat of having been set up to fail. He grit his teeth and did it again.

On the twentieth trial, with burning arms, he finally knocked over most of his cones in the right order. He didn’t bother to congratulate himself on his progress. Tetsuji shook his head and turned back to the team.

They broke up into predetermined lines and began a brutal game of scrimmage. Nathaniel’s initial excitement from earlier had waned during drills in his effort to keep up. He would say the Ravens played rough, but that would be the understatement of the off season. Their style was high speed, brutal, and unforgiving of the new rookie.

There were six on Nathaniel’s team up against Riko and Kevin’s, but Jean may as well have been defending the goal himself. Nathaniel hadn't played defense since little leagues and his year as a striker had gained him no advantage on this court. The bitterness at being denied that position did him no good, so he swallowed it down and tried to keep up with Jean.

Nathaniel in top form was usually the fastest player on the court, but that didn’t matter when he started the game already exhausted and was up against the Ravens’ best. Riko and Kevin were just too fast and too skilled. The first time Nathaniel moved to block Riko, he faked Nathaniel out and rammed his racquet into Nathaniel’s back. He fell to his knees and turned in time to see Riko catch Kevin’s rebounded ball and fire it straight into goal without another step. The keeper didn’t even bother to move as the goal lit up red.

The scrimmage felt like it was taking hours but Riko and Kevin never slowed down or let up, while Nathaniel was beginning to fumble even without Riko’s help. His only luck was that the keeper had begun to deflect balls all the way down the court, probably because he saw how useless his defense was. The dealer on Nathaniel’s team sent him dirty looks every time he failed to pass in time. Riko used his racquet like a weapon and struck Nathaniel whenever they passed on the court. Riko might have trampled him for the fun of it, too, if Jean hadn’t been there to pick Nathaniel up no matter how many times he fell down.

Jean was the best backliner the Ravens had and it frustrated Nathaniel that he was letting Jean down. Jean knew and anticipated the players’ moves expertly. He snatched any ball within his reach and passed to their dealer without hesitation.He was much taller than Riko and out-stepped Riko more easily than Kevin, but it wasn’t enough. Every time Nathaniel caught the ball, either Riko or Kevin were there to slam into him and steal it right back before he could decide where to move. Riko’s brutal stick checks nearly tore Nathaniel’s racquet right out of his hands. Kevin didn’t hit him but he didn’t need to when Kevin stepped out of Nathaniel’s reach with startling ease.

He saw now where the Raven drills came in handy. The strikers never tripped and never missed passes even when making millisecond decisions. It was a shock to see how these champions really played, how intense it was. He knew the team was impressive but it was another thing to see it in person and it only made him feel less worthy to be here. He had wanted Exy for years and this would be the only chance he had to play. Through the pain and frustration, he pushed himself to keep going and run on fumes when he thought he would collapse.

To top it off, the goalkeeper was pissing the strikers off. He didn’t notice it at first because he thought Jean’s irritation was directed at him alone, but every shot made on goal was increasingly aggressive.

“Keep up, Neil,” Jean ordered after pulling him back up for the nth time. The short goal keeper behind them was the only one who hadn't commented on Nathaniel's poor performance. Kevin's next move tripped Nathaniel up again and let him take a quick shot right over Nathaniel's head. Jean cursed and Nathaniel followed his line of sight.

Kevin wasn’t looking at Nathaniel, he was glowering at the keeper who had let the ball fly just out of reach. The next shot Kevin made on goal, he intentionally aimed for the keeper’s chest only for it to be smacked right back at Kevin’s head. Kevin caught it and shot it back to score, too fast for the keeper to block this time. The keeper looked furious through the grating of his helmet while Kevin ignored him to take back his spot on the line.

Nathaniel turned to Jean but he offered no explanation. Nathaniel couldn’t understand why the keeper would just let some of the shots through, but it kept happening. One of the strikers would make a shot and purposefully aim for the keeper, who was forced to deflect it and sent it hurling at someone’s head or feet regardless of team. Jean was nearly tripped once but he recovered soon enough to scoop it up and send it off down the other side of the court. Nathaniel didn’t think it was his imagination that he caught several players grinning whether they caught the deflected ball or got hit instead. Either they were masochistic or something else was going on.

Nathaniel didn’t know how long they’d been practicing, but he didn’t know how much longer he could play. The next time he caught the ball, his wrist gave out and the ball rolled away from him before either striker could knock it away.

A pounding on the court walls brought the game to a halt. The coach pried open the door and made his way to Nathaniel, fury in every step. Tetsuji stopped twenty feet from where Nathaniel had been standing near the goal and ice shot down his spine when Tetsuji pointed at the floor in front of him in silent demand. Nathaniel gripped his racquet and came to Tetsuji like his death waited for him and stopped just out of range. Retreating had never been an option with his father, and he had nowhere to run now. Nathaniel was aware of every eye on him and his chest burned hot with shame and resentment.

“Tell me what the fuck you think you are doing.”

In spite of himself, he smiled a slow, mocking smile. He was too tired to care by now. “Not enough, apparently.”

Tetsuji wasted no time in grabbing Nathaniel’s racquet from his weak grip and knocking Nathaniel on his ass. It hurt badly, but he couldn’t help it. He started laughing because he was in so much pain, and because he couldn’t stop it, and because if he didn’t laugh he wouldn’t know what else to do. Tetsuji didn’t stop beating him until Nathaniel had gotten over his hysterics, then tossed his racquet over his balled up form.

“You are a disgrace. If you don't improve within the week, I will forget everything I have told you and it's all over.”

The coach walked off muttering Japanese and Nathaniel cursed him in German under his breath. Riko called the game to finish as the coach locked the door behind him. Luckily the game didn’t take much longer. Riko and Kevin’s team won by an unsurprising wide margin.

When Riko called for a huddle Nathaniel gulped air into his burning lungs, his hands on his knees. The Ravens converged in the middle of the court around Riko. Kevin appeared on the side a minute later and Nathaniel followed Kevin’s path to the goal behind them, Kevin’s grip white knuckled around his racquet. Jean came to stand beside Nathaniel and ushered him to the huddle with a hand on his back. Nathaniel could just hear Kevin’s irritated voice behind him over the team’s critiques. He fought not to turn back and pretended to be listening to huddle.

“The fuck are you doing, Doe?” Kevin demanded.

The goalkeeper responded with a light, mocking tone. “You're too good for me, Day. I just can't keep up.”

“Keep doing this and see where it gets you.”

“Oh, no. I’m in trouble now.” The keeper sounded almost bored.

“Is there a reason you are letting me win?”

“I thought you already did, since you got me here.”

“You agreed to play. I shouldn’t have to force you. You’re insulting the rest of the team by acting like this, Andrew.”

“Am I? Refer back to the part where I don’t care.”

“They won’t let you slack off. It’s not in them. They want your best, same as I do.”

“Oh, have I disappointed you? Shame on me.”

There was a sudden crack and Nathaniel turned back instinctively. Kevin was in the keeper’s face, his racquet held up against the goal. His hand shook as if it was taking everything Kevin had not to break the keeper open with his racquet. The keeper stared back blank faced and unconcerned.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“Why I should care when you let Riko best you?"

Kevin paused and looked back over his shoulder for a quick moment. Whatever he said next, Nathaniel couldn’t hear.

“He will take this from you, Day. You’re blind if you don’t see it–”

“Neil, are you paying attention? You are the worst offender here.” Riko’s strident tone forced his attention back to the front, and he proceeded to be vivisected by the whole team.

Kevin appeared with the keeper in toe a minute later. He didn’t know what that was about. It was strange to imagine anyone on the Raven lineup that didn’t already live and breathe Exy, and if there was some drama between Riko and Kevin, Nathaniel wasn’t privy to it. It was too much effort to sort through the fog of his mind so he let it go for now.

After the agonizingly long huddle, Nathaniel started to head off for the showers. Jean grabbed his helmet from the back.

“Fuck, what now?”

Jean gave him a shut the fuck up stare. Riko and Kevin approached them from the retreating mass of black.

“That was the sorriest thing I've ever seen,” Riko spat. “What the fuck have you been doing all this time?”

“Offense,” Nathaniel growled. He didn't see Riko swing at him until Nathaniel was already on the ground on his back. Riko's heel dug into Nathaniel's abdomen, his racquet at Nathaniel's neck like a knife.

“You will be benched along with the rest of the freshmen if you do not master that first drill before the season starts. Now clean up this court. Understand?”

Nathaniel didn’t have the energy to fight him or care. He nodded assent and waited for Riko to leave him alone.

When Riko and Kevin walked away, Jean pulled him onto his feet. It took them a long time to clean up the court because Nathaniel was practically no help at all. After collecting all the balls and polishing the court, they headed for the showers long after everyone had already left. Nathaniel didn't even care that there weren't any stalls, he just let the hot water wash over his numb body.

“You are all insane. I can’t believe you live like this.”

“Says the runaway who signed up for a high school team knowing what the risk was.” Jean turned the water off with a sigh and hid his head under a towel. “You had to have known Universities would look at high school teams.”

“I didn’t expect to be found in some nowhere town.” He said it more to himself as he reached for his own towel. Jean had a change of clothes ready for him next to Jean’s own. It felt strange not to even have his own bag anymore. Jean had thrown away the clothes he’d arrived in. Nathaniel didn’t have a single thing anymore that belonged to him.

Changing into his new clothes, he fought back a sudden wave of nausea. Coach Moriyama had his binder. What if Riko and Kevin saw that? He didn’t even know where it was, but if they’d seen it, wouldn’t they have mocked him for it already? It was filled with articles, clippings, photographs, everything he’d been able to find about the pair over the years. He assumed Tetsuji would keep his money. If the coach still had it, there might be a chance he could snatch it back. At the least, he had his uncle’s number memorized. Not that it would do much good with no access to a phone. He hadn’t touched one voluntarily since... He didn’t want to think about it.

“They think it’s a good thing, that you couldn’t let Exy go.”

It was the truth, but it was too painful to talk about his own role in this. While avoiding Jean he made the mistake of looking in the mirror. He had been expecting it, but the flash of blue froze him in place. Nathaniel raised his fingers in front of him as if that would hide his father's eyes staring back at him. Riko's inner circle knew who he was, but it had been a year since he'd bared his real eyes even to himself. He didn't want to see them.

“I want my contacts back.” He had a pair in his bag, if they hadn’t already been thrown away.

“What contacts?”

“I’ve been wearing brown.”

“Why are you worried about that? Riko isn't going to out you. Why would he purposefully lose valuable property?”

“I want them. I- 'Neil Josten' has brown eyes, Jean.”

“If they were concerned they would have let you keep them. Riko will probably keep the black hair, for now at least.” Jean finally looked up long enough to catch his frozen stare. “Do you think wearing them will help you forget that you are the Butcher's son?”

Nathaniel grit his teeth and forced himself to turn away from the mirror.

In the empty kitchen, he ate as much food as Jean put in front of him. He had missed a tour twice on account of being knocked out so he committed every turn and passage to memory on the way to the bedrooms.

Jean told him they were in Black Hall before stopping and opening a door. He walked in, thinking it was their own room but by then it was too late.

Riko was on the bed and Kevin in front of the opposite nightstand. Nathaniel looked to Jean but he ignored Nathaniel in favor of closing the door and guarding it. Nathaniel’s lips stretched into his father’s mocking smile before he could stop it. Riko met it with his own as he stepped up to Nathaniel almost chest to chest.

“I hope you enjoyed your years of freedom, Nathaniel. You’ve reached the end of your leash.”

“If only your fans knew you were such a piece of shit.” Nathaniel's heart hammered in his chest with Riko so close to him, but Riko only looked more amused by the insult.

“People love a good smile, but I don’t like yours. You don’t seem to understand your precarious position yet.”

“You wouldn’t have brought me here just to throw me away.” He sounded braver than he felt. He remembered the two of them, Riko a bossy brat and Kevin, quieter and condescending. He had wanted to impress both of them, had bragged about being the fastest on his team. They’d seemed to like that. He liked that they didn’t treat him like a younger kid and had expected him to keep up. The years hadn’t changed their first impressions much, except that now Nathaniel knew who Riko really was. Only a few hours ago, Riko had been a bad dream. Now he held Nathaniel’s life in his hands and the violence that radiated from him didn’t feel like that of a child. If Nathaniel was reading him right, Riko wouldn’t want to throw away a shiny new toy anytime soon. He would want to collect what he thought was his, but Nathaniel wasn’t willing to pay lip service to curry favor. He was no one’s pet and he never would be, even as freedom kissed him goodbye.

“You aren’t afraid of me, but you will be.” Riko’s smile said he wasn’t at all displeased with Nathaniel’s reaction so far and was looking forward to showing Nathaniel how very wrong he was. “Get on the bed.”

“Go to Hell, King.”

“I gave you an order, Nathaniel. Jean? Who is in control here?”

“You are, Riko.” If Nathaniel hadn’t known there was no one else in the room, he wouldn’t have thought it was the same person. Jean’s voice was subdued. Nathaniel knew that deference well, except he was used to hearing it from himself around his father.

Riko held up his hand. “Kevin, pick a number between one and five.”

Nathaniel didn’t know yet what game Riko was playing, but apparently Kevin did. His face went dark and he looked to the ground before replying. “Five.”

“Oh, you’re too easy, Kevin. But okay. Jean, come here.”

Jean showed up beside Nathaniel. He was ready to fight them off if he needed to, no matter that he would lose. Jean’s stance didn’t say he was planning on it, though.

“Pinky finger. Let’s say… right hand.”

There was only a moment’s hesitation before Jean yanked back his own finger with a wet snap. Jean bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood and barely managed not to cry out.

Nathaniel took a step back despite himself but Riko was ready and grabbed his shirt.

“On the bed, Nathaniel.”

“Fuck you, you psycho prick.”

Apparently that was exactly what Riko was hoping he'd say. Nathaniel got an elbow into Riko’s ribs as Nathaniel’s legs were swept out from under him, landing him on his back on the bed. Riko had a switchblade at Nathaniel’s face before he could see where it came from. Riko’s smile had twisted into something murderous.

“Understand this now, you know nothing brat. I am king here, and you are mine. Displease me, and you will be gone. University? Gone. Exy? Gone. This?” Riko pressed the edge of his blade against Nathaniel's racing pulse for several long beats. “When I am through with you, you won’t even think of defying me. Now put your hands above your head like a good boy.”

“Whatever. You’re a spoiled, fucked up child, that’s all.”

“Keep mouthing off like that, you’ll lose your tongue. You don’t need it for Exy, after all.” Riko changed the angle of the knife, poised to stab past his lips. “Hands, Nathaniel. Now.”

It took Nathaniel only a moment to decide Riko definitely wasn’t kidding. He did as he was told.

As soon as his fingers wrapped around the headboard, Kevin snapped metal around his wrists. Nathaniel cursed silently at being maneuvered so easily, at being found so easily. He cursed everything, but in silence.

Riko straddled Nathaniel’s aching body with one hand on his chest. “I want you to remember this, Nathaniel. Remember how you fought me and couldn't fight me off. That should help you make better decisions in the future. When you finally beg me for mercy, I'm going to love telling you no.”

If Riko was planning on making this hard for him, Nathaniel was planning on fighting him every step of the way. He didn’t bother to hide the defiance in his eyes and when Riko saw it he laughed in Nathaniel’s face. Riko inched Nathaniel's shirt up to his shoulders as he felt fingers around his ankles. When he kicked out, Riko pressed down painfully and wagged the knife in his face in warning. The cuffs bit into his wrists, but he couldn’t help pulling on them as Kevin and Jean held his legs down.

He let the cuffs bite deeper as he used them like a rope swing and held on tight, twisting and bucking to get Riko off of him and free his legs with his last remaining strength. Riko moved with him and easily held on tight, laughing all the while until Nathaniel felt someone’s unyielding weight on his legs. It had to be Jean because Kevin had retreated to Riko’s bed and was avoiding watching the whole thing as if he hadn’t just helped it happen.

Riko tilted his head to the side and ran a hand down Nathaniel’s now bare chest. “I’m looking forward to breaking you. It’s too bad you're not a blank slate for me but that's okay, I can work with this.”

Riko carved several short, horrible marks along Nathaniel's chest. He did his best to grit through the pain, but he was already so tired, he couldn't hold back all of it. Every sound he made only incensed Riko further.

“No wonder you think you’re so brave. What did you think, you’ve lived under the Butcher so the King will be no problem for you?” Riko’s knife slowed through his flesh and Nathaniel fought not to scream with every panting breath.

Nathaniel looked down long enough to see that Riko was carving several 4's up and down his chest.

“Possessive motherfucker,” Nathaniel spat.

“That's right. Now say it again like you know you're at my mercy.” Riko cut him so slow and deep that Nathaniel couldn't hold back his scream. “That’s better. Let it out.”

Nathaniel gripped his fists. They were warm and wet and his wrists stung no matter how he positioned them now. The smell of blood itself was almost enough to push Nathaniel over the edge but he hung on if only by a thread, as he always had.

His legs had gone to sleep beneath Jean’s weight and Riko was warm and heavy over his hips. He wanted them both off of him. Nathaniel never touched anyone outside of the court and having Riko flesh to flesh was turning his stomach.

Riko’s thumb spread the warm blood over his stomach, trailing Nathaniel’s longest scar. “After everything your mother did, you had to fuck up, didn’t you?”

That was too close to his own thoughts and the rage came up sick from his chest.

“Fuck you, you fucking son of a bitch-”

Riko’s backhand brought the taste of blood to his mouth. “It’s your own fault, Nathaniel.” He wagged the knife in front of him, splattering Nathaniel’s face with blood. “Did your mother know how desperate you were to play? Is that why you waited until she died?”

“I am going to kill you one day. I’m going to rip you apart,” he promised, but his voice was hoarse and weak and desperate.

Riko returned that with a cold smile. “I’d love to see you try. You’d only end up on your back, like this. You’d be begging for your life before you could get a knife in me. Kevin, come here.”

Kevin left Riko’s bed to stand by Riko’s side. “Are you watching, Kevin? This is how you keep someone in line. You’d think you’d learn something after living with me for so long. I don’t like how much you’re letting that keeper get away with. Maybe you need more practice?”

Riko stood up and snapped his fingers at Jean to do the same. Nathaniel couldn’t even feel the loss of weight.

“Turn him over.”

Putting weight on his bleeding front effectively choked a scream out of him. For a moment there was no one and nothing but the fire across his chest. He distantly heard Riko telling Kevin something. He flinched before he could stop himself and felt someone’s weight on top of him. Nathaniel should have grabbed Riko when he’d been able to stand. He should have wrapped his hands around his throat and choked the life from him but now he was stuck under someone, panting through the agony.

He’d thought it was Riko on top of him, but Riko’s face was bent down in front of his, Riko’s fist in his hair turning Nathaniel towards him. He waited for the next attack, but it didn’t come.

“Don’t chicken out Kevin. What is he going to do to you?”

The waiting tension was almost worse than the knife, and he wished Kevin would just get on with whatever Riko wanted him to do.

“I think he’s learned his lesson,” Kevin said from behind him, but he hadn’t stood up yet.

Riko released Nathaniel’s hair. When he spoke, his voice was dark and almost too quiet for Nathaniel to hear, and it made every hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“You know I don’t tolerate disobedience, Kevin. Do you want to join him?”

“No,” Kevin said, but it was hushed, like if he said it quietly enough Riko would forget they’d been speaking.

“Then do as I say.”

Nathaniel tensed beneath Kevin and waited for the knife, but instead his hair was sharply pulled back again. Kevin’s breath was hot on his ear.

“You should have kept running. You fucking idiot.”

It wasn’t Kevin’s fist driving into his shoulder that choked a sob from him.

“Get off of him you fucking coward.”

Riko practically threw Kevin off of Nathaniel and sent him stumbling with a fist to the jaw. He turned back to Nathaniel, knife in hand.

“Oh, and Nathaniel? There's no sleep for you tonight. Don't slip up too much at practice, though. The master will be watching, and you’ve only got six days left to impress him.”

In their own room in Red Hall, Jean took a first aid kit from under the bed and told Nathaniel one was waiting under his own. Jean took care of his broken finger with shaking hands as Nathaniel cleaned himself up. There was one cut too deep that needed stitches. He found the needle and threaded it. Every piercing stitch felt like it took something more from him.

Nathaniel remembered having to do this all too well, checking himself for wounds, a hospital the furthest thing from his mind. His quiet year grieving in Millport felt like some dream vacation now. He wanted to drive Jean into the wall and crush the life from him, but he was too tired to do anything except let the hate curl and boil in his stomach.

“I hate all of you. When you die, I'm going to piss on your graves,” he promised.

“You won't live long enough with an attitude like that. The way you mouth off makes me think you want him to hurt you.”

“Why the fuck have you put up with this? You and Kevin, you're the fucking masochists.”

Jean stilled before putting the first aid kit away.

“Think whatever you want, Butcher. It makes no difference. I suggest you try to sleep. We have to be up in three hours.”

Nathaniel did try but no matter which way he turned his body screamed in pain. Instead, he stared into the dark and fantasized about stabbing them all in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I am aiming to upload a chapter a week. I hope you enjoy the ride. :)


	4. Nowhere to Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to my beta come_on_eileen. You are the best!

A shrill alarm rang somewhere inconsequential. Nathaniel buried his head under the warmth of his blanket. Staying where it was nice and comfortable and finding his way back to sleep was all that mattered.

Cold air shocked his senses. He burrowed desperately into the mattress but Jean’s irritated voice was an insistent and unwelcome presence in his ear. “Nathaniel, get the fuck up. I don’t have time for this.”

Nathaniel meant to tell him to fuck off, but Jean’s cold fingers dug into his arm until he was pried to his feet. What day was it? He tried to remember as Jean tossed a change of black clothes in his face. The pieces were there but he couldn’t put them in order. He remembered Riko’s knives and hands, but whether that was yesterday or the day before was just out of reach. Jean had explained in passing that their days were different here, but he didn’t quite understand until he was fighting not to sleep on his feet at practice. It felt like he’d only closed his eyes for a few minutes. He followed Jean out the door and towards the kitchen.

Every time Nathaniel stepped out into the hall, he fought the itch to make a run for it. Jean wouldn’t let him get far. There were codes he didn’t have access to and Moriyama guards and usually open bedroom doors. In short, he was fucked.

He wanted to be alone, to think, to do anything. He wanted to run and breathe in fresh air. And cigarette smoke, but of course he wasn't allowed outside. He hadn't been brave enough to try it. He didn't reward himself with the thought that he was being smart by staying here- if he were that smart, he wouldn't have been caught in the first place. After years on the run, he was trapped and given one single thing to focus on day and night. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder because his past had caught up with him. The only thing left was to convince Coach Moriyama to keep him, and so far the odds were not in Nathaniel’s favor.

Jean noticed his shortness of breath before Nathaniel did. “If you’re going to have a panic attack, don’t let Riko see. He’ll turn it into sport.”

“What?” He heard what Jean had said, but it was like he had heard Jean from down the hallway instead of at his side. His chest was tight. His blood screamed run but his feet were frozen.

“You’ve never been claustrophobic before, have you? You are now.”

Jean was right. The black walls and low, red light made the place seem even smaller than it really was. He’d thought his memory of this place had been darkened with the touch of his childhood and the memory of the bloody room, but it was just as dark and unnatural as it had been when he was ten.

When they weren’t at practice he found himself looking around for something new, some detail he hadn’t noticed before. He’d checked for fire escapes and unguarded windows or doors. There was no hint of the outside world. No daylight. It was the sky he was itching to see, turning unfamiliar corners and mapping their routes. Nathaniel used to run all the time only a week ago, partially out of necessity, but also because he loved the freedom that came with moving his body. His feet could carry him for miles, and that was a good feeling. Now he could only run in circles.

“I could tell you it gets easier, but I’d be lying,” Jean said.

“I wouldn’t believe you anyway.” It was a small relief to be honest for once. With the rest of the Ravens, Nathaniel had to pretend to be Neil Josten until Coach Moriyama decided otherwise. He didn’t really mind that, though. He hadn’t wanted to be Nathaniel ever again.

Riko and Kevin were already setting up their breakfasts in the kitchen and all but ignored the rest of the team to sit off in the corner by themselves. Nathaniel listened to their hoarse morning Japanese so he could know if Riko came up behind him while drowsily following Jean's instructions to make omelets.

Jean picked a spot for them away from most of the team and they ate their breakfast in silence. He was about to ask what day it was but a quiet string of French behind Nathaniel brought him up short. Kevin wouldn’t have used Jean’s native tongue if he had thought Nathaniel could understand.

“Don’t expect to get any down time today. He’s got more planned for Butcher, here.”

Jean didn’t look up at all when he responded. They were keeping their conversation private from Riko, apparently. Nathaniel ate his breakfast and pretended to ignore them entirely.

“He’s not going to get any better if he’s damaged beyond repair.”

“Then make him understand so it doesn’t get to that point. He’ll have to learn.”

“He’s a little difficult,” Jean said into his coffee.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t take as long as you did. We don’t have that kind of time.”

Jean turned stiff at that. Nathaniel didn’t know Jean’s history, and Jean hadn’t offered any explanation of how he came to be in Riko’s inner circle. Kevin had nothing to do with the Moriyamas until his mother’s death. There was a good chance Jean was in Nathaniel’s position. That would have to explain his deference and Riko’s abuse specific to them both, as well as why he knew everything that the other Ravens didn’t.

“And when I leave the room, tell Andrew I will speak with him at the huddle today. Riko can’t hear the conversation.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

With that, Kevin left to Riko’s side.

Nathaniel didn’t say anything yet, but watched Jean eat a little slower than he had before. A minute later Riko and Kevin left, and Jean got up.

“Stay here for a minute.”  

He crossed the room to where a Raven was sitting alone eating cereal. Nathaniel remembered him from the other day, the keeper that was pissing Kevin off. Andrew didn’t even glance up when Jean came his way, but Jean didn’t leave until Andrew gave a dismissive flick of his fingers. Why Kevin needed to speak with Andrew in private or why Jean would play along, Nathaniel didn’t know.

Nathaniel had already finished his breakfast and he was ready when Jean came back to say, “Let’s go.”

Most of the Ravens were already in the locker room. Nathaniel kept his front towards the lockers and strapped into his padding as quickly as he could. His body wouldn't move as fast as he needed it to, though. Every scar and wound felt like a neon sign spelling out his real name and what his new position meant. He didn't look back to see whether anyone was eyeing him. Instead, he distracted himself and turned to Jean. It had worked better for him that they didn’t realize he spoke French. If Jean had gone through what Nathaniel was currently, he needed to know as much as possible. Nathaniel kept his voice as low he could.

“What was that about earlier? Why French?”

“It’s my mother tongue.”

“So? You couldn’t say it in front of me? What happened to, ‘there’s no privacy in the Nest,’ bullshit?”

“Don’t speak of what you don’t understand, child.”

“I’m only a few years younger than you.” He thought, anyway. Nathaniel had watched Riko and Kevin from afar for years, but Jean’s life was far less public. He pulled his jersey on over his padding not without effort. “When did you come to Evermore?”

Jean sent him a cool look. “It is of no consequence.”

“I say it is.”

“And what? My history is yours for the taking?”

“Mine was, apparently. You know all about me.”

Jean took a quick sweep of the locker room before turning back to him. “If you can’t figure it out for yourself, it’s no wonder you got caught.”

“You’re like me.” Even as he said it, it felt weird. It was impossible to imagine himself bowing his head to Riko and bending to his every word, but that was what would have been expected of him had he and his mother not fled. He would have been in Jean's place, with that 3 tattooed on his cheekbone and broken fingers when Riko felt like it. “That’s why you let Riko treat you like this.”

Jean shoved him hard up against the lockers and held him there with his one uninjured, shaking fist bunched in Nathaniel’s jersey. It came out in French before he corrected himself and switched to English.

“I am not like you, you spoiled fucking flight risk. You could not possibly understand. But I suggest you try, if you have any desire to survive.” Jean let go of him only long enough to shove him out towards the court. “Let’s go. I have no intention of running extra laps if you make us late.”

First practice didn't go any better than the others but at least Coach Moriyama wasn't there this time to tear him a new one. Nathaniel tried but he couldn’t hear a word of Kevin and Andrew’s conversation even though it lasted the entire huddle. Whatever it was Kevin said to him, he wanted both Riko and the coach distracted. No privacy, his ass. He needed to know what they had said.

After showering and a quick lunch, Nathaniel wasn’t surprised when Jean led them to Riko’s room. Jean shut the door behind them as always and Riko favored them with a cruel smile. Nathaniel could be said to be a lot of things, but an optimist wasn’t one of them. He didn’t expect hope or mercy, not now, or in the future. The walls of Evermore felt like a physical weight.

Kevin turned to Jean from his place on Riko's bed. “Nathaniel is embarrassing you on the court. If he doesn't improve, you can't be starting line up. I suggest you motivate him to do better.”

Nathaniel wasn't happy with Jean, but their way of doing things was insane. Being in this room now automatically set him on edge. “It's not his fault I'm fucking up. It's only been a few days.”

Riko said, “The master is impatient. That's how the Nest works, Nathaniel. How's your finger, Jean?”

“I've set it, thank you.” Jean had a weird tone to his voice and it made Nathaniel's skin crawl. Was that what he would sound like after a few years with Riko? He knew that posture, muscles tensed for flight. Did Jean no longer even think about leaving? Did he imagine dying here?

“If you want to start school with a working hand, get him to keep up.”

Nathaniel didn't miss Kevin's quick glance at Riko, or how he had said nothing. Nathaniel's blood simmered at that. “You're not going to hurt him for what's my responsibility.”

Riko turned to Nathaniel with what could have been but wasn't honest surprise. “I'm not?”

“Only if you want your own broken finger.”

Riko smiled then, slow and pleased. “Alright. I have a new game for you, Nathaniel. Would you like to hear what it is?”

“I bet you’re dying to tell me.”

“It’s called, who can catch the knife first?”

Directly between Jean and Nathaniel, Riko dropped a short blade. He knew it was a trick, but Nathaniel grabbed it without hesitation. Jean hadn’t moved. As tempting as it was, Nathaniel wasn’t stupid enough to kill Riko with it. His first meeting with Riko had cemented in memory what happened to anyone that lay a hand on a Moriyama, even if it took him a few years to understand the context. On the other hand, he sure as hell wasn’t going to turn away the chance to defend himself.

“Good. Looks like you know the game.” He took a seat next to Kevin.

Kevin sat further back on the bed with his knees to his chest and was apparently pretending not to be here.

“Are you going to try to hurt me?” Riko asked.

“When you try to hurt me, yes.”

Riko raised his eyebrows in exaggerated surprise. “Looks like you don’t know the rules after all.” Riko turned to Jean. “Jean, take off your shirt and come here. Kevin, door.”

Unsurprisingly, they both did as they were told. The sinking feeling in his gut had never really left since he woke up in this room, but it hummed a familiar tune that he was trying very hard to act like he didn’t understand.

Jean’s body was as scarred as his own. There wasn’t much space without a burn mark or angry red slash. Again, Nathaniel wondered how long Jean had been here, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Nathaniel, since you haven’t caught on, here are the rules. You win the knife, you get to use it. You don’t use it, you lose the knife. Get it?”

Nathaniel looked to Jean and his scarred flesh. On the run from his father, both Nathaniel and his mother had hurt people, but he had never enjoyed it. He didn't want to hurt anyone for Riko's amusement. All he could see when he looked at Jean was Nathaniel himself, body screaming to run but unable to while his father took his soul apart. He turned back to Riko and shook his head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Ah, but that’s not the game. You don’t have a choice, or haven’t you gotten that yet?”

“No.”

“Jean.”

Jean was taller and stronger than Nathaniel, but Nathaniel was faster. He was at the door before Jean could make a grab for him. Kevin barely had to touch him to shove Nathaniel back into the room and right into Jean’s arms. He didn’t use the knife but he used everything else to get Jean off of him, and when he finally struck out with the blade it was too late. Jean held him easily on his stomach, knees digging into his pressure points so that he gasped around the pain and bottled up panic.

The blade was dull, which meant that it hurt a lot more than it should have when it sliced into Nathaniel’s back.

“Fuck you! Fuck all of you.” Even if Nathaniel could get up from this angle, his limbs weren't working as long as Jean held him in place.

“You should have played the game, Nathaniel. Do you want another try?”

“I’m not playing along with your sick fucking games.”

“Jean?”

This time, Jean set the knife against Nathaniel’s hand. He stilled and without thinking begged in quiet French for him to stop. Jean tensed over him but didn’t move. If Jean cut him at that angle, he wouldn’t heal within the week. If he couldn’t play, he had no value to Tetsuji.

Any other time, Nathaniel would have said Riko was messing with him, but after a few days with Riko, he was less certain. Nathaniel was no Kevin Day. He was would-be, disposable property, and he didn’t want to die yet. Gambling was another thing entirely when a knife was pressed to his skin threatening his fragile new future. He could practically feel his father’s hot breath against his cheek, swearing to make his death long and painful.

“Well, Nathaniel?”

Nathaniel ground his teeth so hard he thought he might crack a tooth.

“I’ll play.” It didn’t sound like his own voice.

“Time. Restart.”

Jean stepped back immediately and handed the knife back to Riko. He smiled and waggled the knife over his lap.

“Ready?”

This time, when Nathaniel got the knife, he slashed Jean’s chest on the way up from the ground. It was a desperate, haphazard move but it worked.

An hour later, they were both covered in new wounds and avoided each other’s eye when Riko called for a stop. He moved to stand in front of Nathaniel. It took everything he had not to stab Riko’s abdomen and instead hand his knife back, handle first.

“Are you beginning to understand, Nathaniel?”

His mother had taught him to sacrifice everything and everyone to save his own skin, but this was different. Before he had been fighting for his freedom. Tonight, he had made a choice to hurt Jean to keep a place at Riko’s side.

“Yes,” he said, but he couldn’t meet Riko’s eyes.

“Good. Get out of my room.”

Jean had nothing to say to him on their way back to Red Hall. Nathaniel was too busy choking back the wave of nausea that was threatening to break him apart. They both smelled of blood. His chest was hot with shame, not just with the sting of cloth on fresh cuts. He didn't want to think. He wanted to run, and the door was so close, just down the hall now if he turned right up ahead. He thought he smelled the ocean, heard the lap of the waves, and his mother's voice telling him to survive. He needed to know if this was okay, because it didn't feel okay.

A short blond in Raven black turned the corner into Red Hall alone. He smelled of cigarette smoke and the scent caught Nathaniel like a fish on a hook. There were healing bruises on his face Nathaniel hadn’t been close enough to notice before.

Andrew caught his stare and stopped in front of him, then watched while Jean dragged Nathaniel down the hall. He looked utterly bored for someone so intent on returning Nathaniel's attention.

Nathaniel forced himself to look away as Jean pulled him along and berated him in quiet French.

“Are you really stupid? Why are you looking at Andrew like that? Is Riko not psycho enough for you?”

“What are you talking about? I just wanted a cigarette. Hey, let go of me, Jean.”

Jean ignored him and only let go once they were safely inside their room with the door closed. “You know that goalkeeper that's always rebounding balls at people’s heads? That's him. Kevin picked him.”

“I know who he is. What, so he's Kevin's pet?”

“He's no one's pet.”

Jean gave him a look like Nathaniel’s IQ had just dropped twenty points, which was impressive because he seemed to think Nathaniel was an idiot anyway. “Project, you could say. He showed up about a week ago. Riko hates him, but he's Kevin's problem and apparently worth putting up with. He's fucking psycho, and I've known Riko for years, so just take my word for it if you don't want to be killed in your sleep.”

Jean took the first aid kit out from under his bed and pointed at Nathaniel's as a reminder. Nathaniel opened his up and took off his shirt, frowning at the fresh blood that had soaked through. He looked down to inspect and clean his wounds. Stitches wouldn't be necessary. He wondered if Jean had cut shallow on purpose. Nathaniel didn't have the experience to do the same.

“Is he really that dangerous?” Nathaniel wasn’t sure whether Jean’s time with Riko had made him paranoid or allowed him to spot the real danger. It was turning Nathaniel himself a little paranoid if he was being honest, but he didn’t want to think on that too long.

Jean didn't look up as he took care of his wounds. “Kevin tried to recruit him, but Andrew went on trial for murder. Kevin approached him anyway. It was either prison, or this. Prosecution was paid off, and here he is. Avoid him, you understand? He doesn't give a shit. I don't even think he gives a shit about Exy.”

Nathaniel frowned. “But I’ve seen him in goal. When he bothers, he deflects most of his shots without even trying. How can he be that good if he doesn't care about Exy? That makes zero sense.”

Jean looked up. “That's what you're concerned about? Not that he killed a man? Butcher's son.”

Jean shook his head, but Nathaniel didn't try to correct him. Nathaniel had grown up around death. It was no longer surprising. It was the idea that a man could be full of potential and not care that bugged Nathaniel for as long as he was able to think about anything, which wasn't as long as he would have liked. They had to be ready for second practice in less than an hour.

Nathaniel turned away when Jean took out a needle and thread to patch himself up. He had made Jean bleed. Those cuts were Nathaniel's fault. Butcher's son, Jean had said. Nathaniel had spent his life not wanting to be either of his parents and now he had fresh blood on his hands.

Nathaniel wanted to tell his mom how very, very sorry he was. He had failed her. He gripped the bed sheets and turned to the wall. If he let it out he would break, so he stuffed his grief deep down somewhere he couldn’t reach.

 

The weight of the Exy padding stung as he walked onto the court with Jean. He avoided Riko's eye. He wanted to play. He wanted to focus on the game but the pain kept taking him back to Riko's room and what he had done. Before, Exy had belonged to him. Only on the court had Nathaniel ever felt real or free. It didn't feel that way anymore.

That Riko and Kevin could so easily outmaneuver Nathaniel on the court stung even more than the physical cuts. He could be faster than these assholes if he weren't so tired and sore. Nathaniel wasn't the type to make excuses but he was pushing himself until his lungs were raw and his muscles seized up and it wasn't enough. Riko knocked into him and Nathaniel fell onto his knees and felt fresh blood under his armor.

Something had changed on the court, though. Andrew was deflecting most shots made his way despite that Riko and Kevin weren't holding back. Every shot Kevin made on goal, Nathaniel saw the years of practice he had been denied and the Court lineup Kevin so clearly deserved. He moved with ease but there was a look in Kevin’s eye that Nathaniel knew well. Hunger, eating him up from the inside.

There was also something he hadn't noticed before. Sometimes Kevin would look to Riko before making a shot, and he would change his stance. Not much, but it was there. On these shots, Andrew would miss the ball by just an inch and Kevin would walk back to the line as if he had lost instead of gaining a point. Riko didn't seem to notice, though.

It should have been a good thing that Andrew was deflecting shots but like the days before, he was aiming for his teammates on almost every one. That he shut off more goals meant more people were targets. Nathaniel caught some of them grinning at each other but it didn't look like joy, more like menace or greed. The Ravens were a strange group. He assumed they were happy to have a keeper as rough on the court as they were but there was something he still wasn't understanding, so he kept his eyes and ears open. Nathaniel had learned to survive on small details. He would put the pieces together soon enough.

Most of the players snatched the ball before it could hit their head or shins but Nathaniel wasn't quick enough. The first one on his back sent him sprawling and he sent a murderous look back to the keeper as Jean snatched the ball up to sent it all the way down the court.

From then on, almost every ball Andrew deflected, he aimed at Nathaniel's head or back or legs. Between Riko and the other teammates knocking into him and now Andrew, Nathaniel was starting to lose his fucking cool. Every time he mouthed off to Riko he paid for it, but Andrew was asking for a fight. The keeper’s petty, childish behavior escalated into pure sadism. Every ball sent at Nathaniel was harder and faster and more painful.

The next ball Nathaniel could catch he sent it straight for Andrew, who hurled it right back. It knocked the wind out of him and he was sent sprawling on his knees.

“Oops, man down,” Andrew said.

He glared back at the keeper. “Fuck you.”

The short goalkeeper tapped two fingers against his helmet, his head tilted ever so slightly. “Here all day, kid.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Aw, did your mommy not let you play with the big boys growing up?”

He couldn't hit Riko, but what did he care about some murderous midget? Nathaniel got to his feet and took one step toward Andrew before Kevin slammed into him and knocked him back onto the ground. Jean was at his side.

“Who's team are you on, Nathaniel?”

Nathaniel stepped up and back, ready for Kevin to knock him down this time. “I don't know because it doesn't look like anyone's on mine.”

“Maybe if you were competent Andrew wouldn't feel compelled to fuck with you.”

“I don't think he cares that much.”

“See, Kevin?” Andrew called from the goal. “He gets it.”

Kevin ignored him. “Start acting like defense instead of a fuck up or-”

“You'll what? Bench me? I'm already benched, if you forgot. Maybe if you weren't-”

Kevin shoved him back. “I don't want to hear it. If you want to play, you will play, no matter what. Your choice. And you!” He turned to Jean. “Get him under control.”

Nathaniel gripped his racquet to keep from punching Kevin while he walked off. Jean shook his head at him in disappointment and fury.

He played hard and got knocked down more times than he could count. These guys were good, and he wanted to be just as good as they were. If he could just get a little sleep, if he could just go a night without breaking off a piece at a time, he thought he could catch up. His team thought he was incompetent and he continued to fail to meet their expectations. It felt like being called to grab something and then being yanked back every time he got close.

At the end of practice he left the court fuming. Jean caught him in the showers, speaking in quiet French. “Don't let Andrew rile you like that. He'll kill you. Riko will hurt you, but he wants you on the court if you're willing to play. Andrew offers no such protection. Understand?”

“This is bullshit, Jean.” He tore off his clothes, ignoring the ache in his muscles, and threw them aside in an angry heap. Right now he didn't even care who saw his scars and wounds. Let them see, they could all go fuck themselves.

“Would you prefer to be sent to the Lord instead? Let the Butcher kill you?”

It was on his mind all the time, but hearing his father's name aloud froze Nathaniel in place. He had nothing else to say. Nathaniel preferred none of this, but he didn't know if he was strong enough. Then again, was it really strength that he was missing, or courage? Nathaniel's cowardice had kept him alive this far, but he had reached the end of the line. He repeated it in his head like a mantra. Exy. University. The pros. Pain meant living, it had never been any other way. A future had to be worth that, because he wasn’t ready to die yet. He dunked his head under the warm water and let it wash away some of the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!


	5. Exy or Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you come_on_eileen, you are the best!!!

“Josten!”

Coach Moriyama’s bellow turned Nathaniel’s knees to jelly. He turned back halfway through his swing and away from the drill line, trying to hide how the hair was standing on the back of his neck and that it took all of his self control to not retreat from the older man. He didn’t need to hit Nathaniel to set him on edge. He’d been barking at the whole team cutting them down on every minor infraction and Nathaniel wasn’t immune to it yet, if he ever would be. It didn’t matter that he had failed less than he did his first days. No minor improvement was worth the coach’s time. Anything less than perfection earned a cutting remark and unfortunately Nathaniel was the weakest on the team.

“You are completely useless. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kick you off my team.”

His first day here, he had mouthed off, but his deadline was coming and so far Tetsuji hadn’t showed any visible signs of approval. There was no evidence he would stay. At first, he had counted on his potential value to mean more than his inexperience. They had tracked him down so long that he didn’t think they would be quick to throw him away. Despite how inadequate he felt, he wanted Exy more than almost anything. If he wasn’t so bitter and angry he would count himself lucky but Riko guaranteed he didn’t have the energy to think much less play his best. Either Riko expected the impossible or he didn’t actually care whether he made it. With the coach staring him down, the skin over his blood felt too thin, his bones impermanent and breakable.

“Well?”

“I won’t fail you,” Nathaniel promised.

“You already have.” He turned back to the team and addressed them as a whole. “Back in line!”

Nathaniel swallowed the ice in his throat and stepped back into formation while the world tilted. If he had already written Nathaniel off, he would have been kicked out already, right? There had to be a chance, but the noose around his neck felt a little too tight. He swung like he was holding on for his life, like if he could just execute their drills perfectly it would keep him breathing a little longer. He ran himself ragged against the strikers until his chest was on fire.

It might have been little more than luck that he was able to catch a ball aimed for his head. It came in a blur and he snatched up his racquet just in time, stumbling back a step before firing over to Jean. The ball had just left the net when Riko slammed into him, sending them both to the ground. 

He couldn’t hide his fierce, desperate grin but Riko shoved himself off Nathaniel’s chest one handed without a word. The dealers were fighting for possession on the other side of the court. He checked the urge to slam his racquet into Riko’s back as he stood, but it was a close thing. That was the first time Nathaniel had passed before Riko could stop him and it had been entirely ignored. His chest burned now with anger. He could do better. He wanted to be on this team. He just wanted a little validation. Was it not enough? Did they not care or were Nathaniel’s accomplishments so minor it wasn’t worth noticing? He was giving everything he had to the team. What more did they want?

He caught Andrew staring at him from goal. Nathaniel couldn’t see his expression through the grating but tapped two fingers to his helmet.

“Better luck next time,” Nathaniel said.

Next time nearly took out a shin. He didn’t have time to be angry through the fear that shot up his belly.

“What the fuck is your problem, Doe? You could have crippled me with that shot.”

Andrew shrugged. “Guess you weren’t quick enough.” He tapped his racquet in a slow, uneven rhythm against the court floor.

If Nathaniel had still been a striker, he would have relished the chance to shoot at Andrew until he’d either crippled the keeper or broken through Andrew’s apathetic nonchalance. What was a man like that doing on this team? If the rest of the team had any objections, they weren’t voiced. The rest of the team wasn’t getting tortured by Riko on a daily basis, though. They could keep up.

He kept his eyes on Andrew any time the ball made it to him and listened for the strikers’ breathing, felt for their proximity on the hairs of his skin. He would be damned if some psycho goalkeeper was going to ruin his chances on this team. He shoved the snarling thought down that he didn’t have a chance. He couldn’t block Riko or Kevin but this practice he passed the ball before the strikers could steal it back or catch him, and kept doing it. His relief was almost too much. He kept looking to Jean, or Kevin, for anyone to notice that he had improved despite his awful state but there was nothing. Somehow their cool indifference bothered him more than the jeering insults. He didn’t want a pity trophy but he wanted to be seen as valuable because if he wasn’t he was dead. By the end of practice, he was convinced that he was thoroughly fucked. 

Nathaniel left the court breathless, exhausted, and panicked. He followed Jean to the showers in silence. Every step felt like one more to the chopping block. He stomped down the panic but it snapped back each time until it took all of his energy just to think straight through the storm. Once they were showered, he grabbed Jean before they could head to Riko’s room. His voice was steadier than he expected but not well enough to hide his fear.

“I’m not going to make it, Jean.” His whole body was shaking and he wasn’t sure he managed to hide it. He was so tired, so fucking tired. If he didn’t love Exy so much he would have learned to hate it by now. It was all he thought about or wanted when he wasn’t wracked with grief over his mom or paranoid and terrified of his father finding him. It was was all he had left.

“There is no way he will keep me. I don’t have time to improve.” He gripped his fists in his pockets desperate for something to hold on to on his way down to hell. “They’re going to send me to my father’s men. I can’t let that happen.” Jean wasn’t looking at him with any sympathy, but he was listening. “Tell me what to do.”

Jean said, “If Riko thinks you are worth keeping around, the master will, too. They will never be satisfied, but it will be better when they are convinced you know your place. You need to decide if Exy is worth this.” He pressed on a wound from the night before and Nathaniel grimaced, but Jean didn’t let go. In a hushed, serious tone, he pressed, “This will not stop. Exy means a place at Riko’s side. They mean to make you Court, or they will kill you in the process. They do not tolerate anything less than complete obedience and perfection. You need to choose. Submission or death. Which is it?”

“...Court?”

Jean let go of him. The word had caught in his throat. A university team was one thing, pros another. That was the logical conclusion, to earn Tetsuji the most capital from his investment. Nathaniel had failed to even comprehend or entertain the idea of Court. He knew he was here to play but he didn’t think it was really going to happen. He just expected the world to cave in on him like it always had. If he was honest, he expected to be sent to his father’s men at the end of the week and had only just accepted his life was really about to be over. The pros and Court were impossible dreams whereas death was a certainty he had escaped for too long.

Jean’s look said that Nathaniel had already answered him with that one word.

“You’ve heard of Riko’s Perfect Court? He means to make you part of it. Kevin thinks you have the potential for it. Do not think this is for your good or benefit. This is Riko’s dream to be the best of the best and he will make it a reality no matter how much blood he spills on the way up.”

Nathaniel didn’t want to be Riko’s pet forever, but he didn’t want to die, either. Jean had done it. Kevin had done it.

“But how am I supposed to convince Coach Moriyama? I’m failing.”

He swallowed hard. This place was ripping him open, giving him no chance to grieve or think. There was nowhere to hide here, nowhere to keep anything safe or sacred. It all belonged to Riko and the master and he didn’t know what else to do. He remembered this feeling well. There was no pleasing people like his father, no getting around their cruelty. You tucked your head and waited for it to end and then waited for it to start again. It was never enough, and he couldn’t imagine how anything could be enough now. Jean had said submission or death, and that was the only choice, and no choice at all.

Jean shrugged.

He knew what Jean would say, but he needed to hear it aloud. “If I stop fighting, will Riko back off enough to give me a chance?”

“No, but you need to show him you want to stay anyway.”

Nathaniel nodded, and Jean led the way to Riko’s room. He told himself he had to convince Riko somehow and followed Jean inside.

Kevin looked up from a book on his bed and Riko greeted him with a mocking smile. Jean shut the door behind them. 

“The master thinks you’re completely useless. He doesn’t know whether you’re worth keeping or not.”

The words were worse than a knife in the gut. It was like Riko shoving him towards his father, ax in hand. He looked down and gripped his fists in his pockets. “Let me stay,” he said softly.

“What’s this? Where’s that ungrateful attitude of yours?” Riko gripped his chin and forced Nathaniel to look up at him.

This time, Nathaniel didn’t pull away. To do so would be a step towards his father. To choose between the Butcher and Riko was almost impossible but he had to because to choose neither was to offer his neck to a coin flip. Nathaniel had had nothing to live for. It surprised him that when the time came, he was so desperate to not throw his life away. Until now, Nathaniel would have had a smart remark but he had nothing. He had fought every day just to keep breathing, and now his life had been taken out of his hands. He didn’t even have the strength to hide the desperation in his eyes.

“Who is your King, Nathaniel?”

“You are, Riko.” 

The words tasted sour on his tongue. It was like chewing his arm off to live but he had made his choice and all there was left was to hold on through the pain and hope it was enough to survive.

Riko’s face broke into an awful, hungry smile. “One more time.”

If this was what it took to live, so be it. He would hate himself but at least he’d be alive.

“You’re King.”

The smile spread, somehow even hungrier. He had imagined he knew how to deal with these people because he had grown up with violence. His father had beaten him but it had been to keep Nathaniel too afraid to step out of line. Riko could not be satisfied because there was always a new level of pain to inflict, and with it a new level of submission. It was bottomless but Nathaniel had jumped in and there was no turning back.

“You want a place on my court, Nathaniel?”

“I do.” He meant it. This was his chance to have something to live for. No more running. It tasted bitter but now that it had been placed in front of him the hunger for it threatened to swallow him whole if Riko didn’t first.

“Show me.” Nathaniel didn’t understand when Riko produced his switchblade and offered it to him. “Take off your shirt.”

Nathaniel threw his shirt aside and took the knife with a steady hand, not without effort.

Riko reached out to Nathaniel and slid his finger above a hipbone. It was like letting a tarantula crawl over his skin, but he refused to flinch or pull away. Riko knew how to make it hurt. It had to be less painful if Nathaniel did it himself. Maybe that was some twisted kind of reward on his part.

He took a breath and cut himself on the exhale. Then again and again at Riko’s command. It didn’t take long for Riko to get bored of his compliance. 

“Enough.”

Nathaniel wiped the blade off on himself and handed it back to Riko who jammed it in his pocket. Nathaniel’s heart gave a painful leap. This felt like a win. This felt like hope. It was fucking terrifying. 

Riko crossed his arms and regarded Nathaniel with a bored, searching look. “Kevin thinks you can be Court. That’s how he found you, you know. He thought you had potential for some nobody. I almost believe you wanted to be found.”

Ah, there it was. The reminder he had put himself in a position to be found, just as he was bleeding of his own volition. Familiar, painful truths were a little easier to bear than hope if only because he knew what to do with them. He just wanted to leave and clean himself up and be alone, or as alone as he could get. 

“Oh, and don't think I'm falling for that submissive act. I'll take it, though. That was cute. Now get out.”

 

The next few days Nathaniel pushed himself harder than ever. He collapsed dry heaving at Jean’s side more than once. Coach Moriyama’s attitude still hadn’t changed. He wanted to believe that when he included Nathaniel in his biting insults at the whole team, it meant he was worth the time. Nathaniel’s last practice before the coach was supposed to decide, he was so nervous he had already thrown up twice. He had done everything he could to prove himself and he could only hope that Jean had been right about how to convince them. Jean had no words of encouragement, but he was there. That was more than Nathaniel had ever expected. Even if he died today, at least he had had someone by his side for a little while. He took short, deep breaths while changing out.

There was a heavy slam of a locker not far down the line. Several of the Ravens Nathaniel recognized as the upperclassmen had crowded around the lockers, the two women on the team and several men. They hadn't changed out yet. Trapped between the lockers and the upperclassmen were Andrew and another Raven Nathaniel thought was the other, much taller, goalkeeper. 

Andrew was the shortest in the whole group and completely outnumbered, but he looked as bored as ever.

Beside Nathaniel, Jean whispered in French. “Get changed out. Hurry up.”

Andrew addressed the man beside him while staring down the rest of the group. “Look, Dylan. Your friends want a word with you.”

One of the strikers sneered at him. “It’s you we want, you arrogant piece of shit. You want to tell us what you’re doing on our court if we have to force you to play?”

“I didn't know Ravens were whiny crybabies. What are pampered rich kids going to do?”

One of the backliners grinned. “You think we’re afraid of some know nothing juvie trash? You want that on our court, Dylan?”

Andrew seemed unphased by the insult.

“I dealt with him his first day here,” Dylan said.

One of the upperclassmen laughed. “Dealt with? Someone so short shouldn’t have knocked you on your ass like that, Dylan.”

“Fuck off,” Dylan spat.

“You can’t say you put him in his place after that. It’s your fault if-”

“I said fuck off.”

Andrew sighed. “Are we done here? Not that I’m aching to get on the court, but this is boring.”

“That’s cute. Where do you think you are, Doe?”

Nathaniel saw one of the Ravens move for Andrew, a heavy shove from the center of the circle. Dylan took a neat step out of the way but half of the Ravens came at him, too. Then they were a swirling mass of flesh and black clothing like a flock of birds descending on a single target at once. Jean stuck out his arm in front of Nathaniel and forced them both back away from the brawl.

Nathaniel expected to see Dylan and Andrew a bloody mess in the center, but no one had gone down yet. Dylan was well built and moved with the calm confidence of a man used to winning fights no matter the odds. He didn't even slow down with each blow from his teammates but took them on two at a time.

Andrew was much shorter than the others but quicker and landed each savage blow like one misstep was unforgivable. The two of them should have been on the ground by now due to numbers alone, but one of the Ravens was unconscious slumped against the lockers, and neither of the keepers were giving ground. 

“They're going to kill each other,” Nathaniel thought he said aloud, but Jean wasn't moving. The keepers were all but ignoring each other. Nathaniel could see now that Dylan had methodically taken down each Raven until there were only the ones going after Andrew. The shorter keeper was driving his fists into anyone in his own path through sheer force. He had to be blinded in one eye because there was a wide gash on his forehead and he was bleeding heavily onto one side of his face, but he wasn’t slowing down.

The court door slammed open, and Riko showed up with Kevin behind him. They stopped short and Nathaniel expected the both of them to be either angry or surprised, but they just looked irritated at being inconvenienced. It was the first time Nathaniel heard Riko actually raise his voice and the echo nearly drove him back into the lockers, eating into his chest.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The fight stilled except for Andrew who was still going at it. He had one of the strikers up against the lockers with his now undivided attention. The pinned Raven was shoving to get away but each movement towards Andrew seemed to incite him even further. One of the men stepped back with his hands up but didn't take his eyes off the keepers. “We're tired of his shit, Riko.”

“Fight on your own time. Andrew!”

He either ignored Riko or didn't hear him. Two of the Ravens pulled the other away from him and Andrew finally turned his attention to the captain. Nathaniel was sure they were about to come to blows if either of them stepped towards the other, but Riko looked at all of them as one like gum on his shoe.

“You motherfuckers couldn't wait until after practice? Don't waste my fucking time. Be on the court in five minutes or you'll spend all of break running laps.” He turned and said something to Kevin that Nathaniel couldn’t hear. Kevin followed Riko out with one last look to his bloodied teammates.

The keepers didn’t say a word to each other but Andrew led the way towards the showers, shoving past one of the strikers. Jean held Nathaniel still as they went by.

“Uh... Does that happen a lot?”

Jean shrugged. “Normally it's revenge for causing the master to lash out, or for failing on the court. That would have happened to you if they didn't know already that Riko and I are taking care of your training.”

Nathaniel hadn't felt any sympathy for the Ravens currently bleeding and picking themselves and their buddies up, but the idea curled something sick and hot through him. If he got hurt, he couldn’t play. If he couldn’t play, he had no value. He also hadn’t expected Andrew to hold his own like that. Nathaniel was used to violence so he hadn’t been bothered that Andrew had nearly gone to prison for murder. Andrew hadn’t made a move on him off the court, but somehow Nathaniel had peaked his interest that day in the hallway. Andrew hadn’t started the brawl but there was no reason for his violence on the court, either. Nathaniel had been so focused on Riko he hadn't considered the other Ravens a threat. He had no delusions about his ability to hold his ground in a fight, especially considering how many he lost due to his own smart mouth. Nathaniel needed to be careful if he lasted the night. No one was going to ruin this for him.

They finished changing and Jean led the way out of the locker room to where Riko and the others were waiting in the middle of the court. He didn't see the coach anywhere.

“Isn't Coach Moriyama going to punish them for it?”

“They brought that on by themselves. He's doing business right now, anyway.”

“What?” Shit, shit. That wasn’t good. He didn’t have time to think about why beating on your own teammates was allowed when the coach didn’t care enough to watch his last practice. He was too late.

“Hey.” 

Jean grabbed his arm in a bruising grip and jerked Nathaniel half out of his thoughts. He couldn’t feel his legs. 

“Calm down. Just play. Okay?”

Nathaniel nodded. He was dead. He could feel it. But was that a surprise? Alright, he was dead. He could play one last time. He wouldn’t have wanted to spend his last hours doing anything else anyway. Maybe he could get away in time. He hadn’t found any exits but the door he didn’t have a code for. If he had decided to run he should have done it days ago. They would expect it now. That was stupid of him. A small voice suggested that maybe he had a chance, maybe he hadn’t fucked up, but that thought was mocking and insubstantial so he shoved it away.

The rest of the team showed up and Riko sent them into warm ups in the coach's absence. Nathaniel pushed himself to keep up, soaking up any pain to ground him in his body, and used the memory of his father's bloody ax to keep himself moving. The handle was stained and worn smooth with use but the blade was always clean and hungry. The cleaver was sharpened to perfection. His muscles burned and his sides split but he kept moving because if he stopped he was dead. He still couldn't block any of the strikers and every shot past him was a personal affront. At the least, Andrew took every chance to deflect shots on his goal to send them hurling viciously at the upperclassmen instead of Nathaniel. It was over all too soon. He could do this forever, he thought. He could spend his life on the court and that would be enough.

 

The master’s office was as black and overbearing as the rest of Evermore. The only colors were from photographs and medals that showcased his and his team’s accomplishments since the beginning of the sport. There were filing cabinets and a large ebony desk, in one of which Nathaniel’s binder had to be. He should have found a way inside before today. He might have had a chance at escaping then.

There were several chairs in the office but no one sat down. Kevin and Riko stood waiting for him and Jean by the wall and Tetsuji was in front of his desk. Riko’s smile was wide, but that didn’t tell Nathaniel anything. It set him off kilter to realize he wanted it to mean he was staying, despite the hell he’d been put through. Not only had he come to the end of his leash, he was holding on to it. He pushed the thought aside as Jean closed the door behind them.

“Nathaniel. Come here.”

Against every instinct in his body that screamed for him to run, Nathaniel did as he was told and hoped his shaking wasn’t visible.

“Kneel.”

Swallowing his pride felt like sandpaper and acid, but he obeyed that order, too.

“Riko?”

Behind him, Riko addressed his uncle with the same deference Jean paid them both. “He’ll take a little longer to break in full, but he knows his place now. While his performance is pathetic, it isn’t for lack of talent. I want to see what we can turn him into.”

It was the first form of praise he had ever heard from Riko, and probably the last. He swallowed around the knot of anxiety in his throat and held his breath.

“I agree. Nathaniel, you’re officially a Raven. Take a seat.”

The click of a cage locking him inside shouldn’t have felt like relief but it did, and it wracked Nathaniel like grief all the same. He stood and took the chair indicated then signed the contracts set in front of him. Everyone still seemed to be waiting for something but he didn’t understand why until a heavily tattooed man came in with a briefcase. Nathaniel had never been tattooed before. He was glad it was a small one. It felt like hell and even worse to wear Riko’s mark, even if it meant a future in the Olympics.

Afterwards in their room, Jean gave Nathaniel the best advice he had. “You will break. That is all there is to it. Whatever you think you're holding on to, forget it. It will be much easier when you see that there is no escape from this, but it won't happen all at once, especially for someone as stupid as you are.”

Jean turned to him, face half red, half shadow in the ghostly light. “In the meantime, decide what you are willing to give to him, and what you can hang on to for a little longer. Then give him a little more when he comes to collect the pieces. Choose to keep something for yourself, something he can't take without killing you for it. Hold onto that, and let everything else go, or the weight of who you used to be will kill you.”  

“I was never anyone, Jean. I am no one.” It hurt to say it aloud. It hurt that he had no choice but to be honest here, and it hurt because he felt like he was falling and knew no one would catch him. Jean’s words weren’t comfort, they were a warning, and it was all he was going to get.

“If you really think that, then who are you fighting so hard to hold on to?” He turned away and closed his eyes. “One thing. Choose, then give everything else up. That is how you survive here.”

He wanted to ask what Jean held on to, but he didn't think he had earned such an important truth and besides, he thought he already knew. It was in the French he spoke behind Riko's back. It was his language, his last remnant of the home he had been cast out of. Without it, Jean would be truly no one and nothing but what Riko had made him. 

Most of the Ravens could go on to the pros and leave the Nest behind physically, but Jean and Nathaniel would always belong to the Moriyamas. He thought about how Kevin had lived at Riko's heel since childhood, how he was as obsessed with Exy as Riko himself. Kevin had nothing else. Nathaniel wondered if Exy could really be enough to justify a life without freedom. For his sake, it needed to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on tumblr at followmedown-tohell if you want to chat :)


	6. Glory and Gore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you come_on_eileen for your extra help this week, you are the best! And thanks to my sister Lovekaneki with her help as well. Very helpful information on pressure points in particular. Also I realized I've been calling Riko's uncle Coach Tetsuji which is awkward. I kept calling him Tetsuji in my head, but it's Coach Moriyama. Oops.
> 
> 1st edit: To be safe, I am going to take some time to write and plot out the middle. I know exactly what's going to happen at the end, and I know what happens directly after this chapter but considering it's why I started writing this fic, I want plenty of Andrew/Neil. It shouldn't take more than a few weeks. Thank you for your patience!
> 
> 2nd edit: Hi guys! I'm sorry that this is taking longer than expected. I hit major writer's block in summer and ran into computer problems as well, but I'm still working on it and haven't abandoned it! I now have a fully functioning computer, too, so no more random restarts :) Woohoo!

Nathaniel hadn’t thought Riko and Coach Moriyama had been holding back on him his first week, but he was quickly corrected in the next one. Now that he wore Riko’s mark, he was pressed longer and harder on the court than anyone else. Every single backliner tried to make his life hell on the court aside from Jean and the strikers were vicious with jealousy. Not only was he a rookie but he had jumped rank immediately, all on his supposed potential. He grinned back at them even as he got knocked on his ass and laughed in their face. What they thought didn’t matter. He couldn’t spare the energy for petty irritation anyway.

When the rest of the team had down time and ate, Nathaniel stayed on the court with Jean until he couldn't move. He had years of experience to make up for. Tetsuji or Riko would sometimes watch these extra practices. When he failed to live up to their impossible expectations, he wasn’t allowed to eat, drink, or sleep. Lately he had to stop during practice, dry heaving, but there was nothing to come up. Every drop of water, every meal, every moment of rest he was allowed, he was grateful for and that was the whole point. It served as a reminder of his new position. Jean hadn't been lying when he said that Riko would make him Court or kill him in the process. He had chosen to stay here willingly, if it could be called choice, and they expected gratitude and compliance for the chance to be in the Nest.

It frustrated Nathaniel that he wasn't at the same level of the Ravens and he pushed himself to catch up. He allowed that pain and frustration to feed the bitter anger in his chest to keep going even when his body screamed for him to stop. This couldn’t last forever. If he caught up, they had to let him sleep and eat. People didn’t live like this. But Riko and Coach Moriyama weren’t normal. He didn’t know when this would stop but he gave it everything he had, and he did it for himself. He wasn’t going to drive himself into the ground so that Riko could be happy, but Nathaniel was more than willing to fight for Exy. His time with the Millport team had been a casual indulgence. He had always wanted to go harder and longer than a high school team allowed. He had wanted the time to improve, knowing that he couldn’t have it, but now he did and even through the pain he caught himself grinning with the rush and heat of it. On top of that, he spent less days in Riko’s room and more time on the court.

Nathaniel still couldn’t block Riko or Kevin at the team’s practice but he was going to get there if it killed him, even if it took him years. He had better luck with the other strikers, though they weren’t giving ground easy. He was getting better at catching Andrew’s vicious shots but Kevin and Riko were as condescending as ever. Nathaniel put everything he had into every move and checked the strikers like his life was on the line, even as his body screamed for him to stop.

When Riko called for the end of practice, Nathaniel bent over with his hands on his knees to breathe. One of the backliners was laughing at him.

“Can’t keep up, rookie?”

“Lucky for you. I’d wipe the floor with you at my best,” Nathaniel shot back. He stood back up, hooked his helmet over his fingers, and rubbed the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. He gripped his racquet tight so his hands wouldn’t shake so obviously.

The backliner, #7 Johnson, grinned without mirth. “You don’t have that much time.”

“Guess you wasted yours. It was your rank I took, wasn’t it? Too bad.” He had asked Jean who his partner had been before he showed up, because he had to have taken someone’s place. Jean’s partner had just graduated and Johnson was supposed to take his place, until Nathaniel showed up.

Johnson’s smile evaporated into something dark until he saw Riko and Kevin coming towards them.

Nathaniel smiled. “Want to tell Riko you think he’s made a bad decision?”

“You’re an arrogant nobody,” Johnson spat, but quietly.

Nathaniel took no pride in being Riko's, but it pissed this guy off and that was funny. He put one finger up onto his bandaged cheekbone. “Not anymore.”

Andrew slung his racquet over his shoulders and walked between them to leave the court. Dylan the keeper turned to leave with him. They stopped to talk at the court wall and Johnson left when Riko and Kevin stopped in front of Jean and Nathaniel.

Kevin surveyed him with his usual condescending look. “If it’s possible I think you’re worse than yesterday.”

Nathaniel just barely remembered Kevin condemning him on his first night in the Net for getting found. He wondered whether Kevin felt any guilt at all over outing him, even if it was on accident.

“Embarrassed? You recruited me, remember?”

Kevin scowled. “You should be. It’ll take years to make you Court.”

Nathaniel fought the urge to step back when Riko reached out to peel back the bandage over Nathaniel’s tattoo. The slight caress of his thumb stung, but Riko knew that.

“Speaking of. Still sensitive?” Riko asked, completely unconcerned.

“You would know,” Nathaniel said, barely free of animosity. Lately Nathaniel’s anger was a persistent, glowing nest of coals in his belly just waiting to be stoked. He ground his teeth not to say anything else and fought not to pry Riko’s hand off of him. It was a test and he knew that. Nathaniel had always known that he rarely won fights, but he had picked them anyway. He couldn’t win against Riko even if he caught him alone, but he didn’t like rolling over, either. Riko enjoyed causing pain for its own sake and so far he couldn’t find a way to quell that sadism. Nathaniel suspected the key might to just let Riko hurt him and that Riko would tire of his games sooner. That might have been the smart route but it wasn’t one Nathaniel could take easily. Every moment with Riko, Nathaniel had to weigh whether it was worth shoving back. If he couldn’t take his rage out on the court, he might have broken by now. One day soon Riko would try to knock him down and Nathaniel was going to lose it and put his fist through Riko’s face before Kevin or Jean could stop him. Jean had said to pick and choose, and right now all he wanted to do was shower and hopefully eat something before he was sent out onto the court again.

Riko smiled, a silent challenge. “Regretting it already?”

“No.”

“Then don’t complain. Don’t pick at it, either. We don’t want to have to redo it. Your face needs to be intact when you walk onto Court with us in a few years. Press on it like this, see?” He held his thumb down too hard and Nathaniel did flinch this time.

Riko pressed the bandage back, then dropped his hand and flicked it dismissively. “Go eat something and get back onto the court with Jean. If we feel like entertaining ourselves we might watch.”

Nathaniel nodded. He hadn’t had anything to eat the day before because the Coach was disgusted with his performance.

Kevin turned to Jean. “Focus on the first precision drill again. He still can’t pass correctly on the rebound and the master won’t be pleased if he fails for much longer.”

Riko laughed. “Correctly? He’s lucky if he can keep the ball at all.”

Nathaniel stuffed down the urge to slam his racquet into Riko’s skull along with the burn of shame in his chest. It was one thing to be made fun of, another entirely to be critiqued by champions. His inexperience wasn’t his fault but they didn’t care. He swore silently that he would get where he wanted to be and then they wouldn’t be able to talk about him like that.

Riko turned to discuss something with Kevin in Japanese so Nathaniel left with Jean. Andrew was staring at them with a tight grip on his racquet.

“Do you think he wants to kill me?” Nathaniel asked Jean in French.

“I told you not to stare, Butcher,” Jean said, avoiding Andrew’s eyes.

As they passed, Andrew said, “Good boy, Josten. Woof, woof.”

“Fuck you,” Nathaniel snapped. He planted himself in front of the keeper. He had had to sacrifice some of his pride just to be here, but that didn’t make him a doormat for everyone else, too. No one but Riko, Coach Moriyama, and his father had ever spoken to him like that, and he wasn’t going to make another exception.

“Neil,” Jean whispered in quiet warning and grabbed his arm to pull him along.

Andrew feigned surprise. “Oh, he speaks. I guess dogs bark more when they’re tied up, huh?”

“Say that again.” Jean was dragging him practically by his collar but Nathaniel dug an elbow in and got free, far enough to get in Andrew’s bored face. “One more time.”

Andrew didn’t flinch.

“Woof.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Prove me wrong, Josten.”

Jean grabbed Nathaniel, slammed him into the court wall, and held him there with his body. In French, he pressed, “What the fuck did I tell you? Calm down.”

“How would you like being called a dog?” Nathaniel responded in kind.

“I’d feel fine if it meant I was alive."

“Coward. Let me go,” he spat.

Jean laughed. “You made the same choice I did. Hypocrite. No wonder Andrew fucks with you. It’s too easy.”

“Let him go, Jean,” Riko said from behind them.

Jean looked back at Riko’s order and released Nathaniel.

Riko said, “A dog will only behave if he learns the consequences of his actions.” He stepped back, arms crossed with Kevin behind him.

Nathaniel thought he heard Kevin say something to Andrew but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t attack Riko without repercussions, but he didn’t care about some apathetic goalkeeper. Nathaniel wasted no time in getting in Andrew’s face. He took a swing and was deflected easily and sent sprawling with just one of Andrew’s punches. He tasted blood, but he was incensed and went again only to find himself pressed up against the wall, his own fists useless.

Nathaniel thought he heard wrong, but he could have sworn that what Andrew whispered next was in German.

“Woof, woof, Josten. Wrong tree.”

Andrew let Nathaniel drop, and the world swam.

 

Jean cursed him later when he woke. He had put an ice pack between Nathaniel’s cheek where it rested against the locker room floor.

“You are so stupid.”

Nathaniel threw the ice pack across the room but had to lean back against the wall behind him when he couldn’t hold himself upright.

“Damn.” That midget could hit.

Jean tossed him a wrapped sandwich. “Eat. We need to get back on the court soon or the master will want to know why you’re taking time to yourself.”

Nathaniel did, but there was something eating at the back of his mind. Maybe he had imagined but, but why would Andrew speak German to him? None of them knew he spoke German. They hadn’t even known he spoke French. He ate and said nothing to Jean about this. Jean would only write him off as paranoid, and maybe he was. This was Evermore. Supposedly his father belonged to the Moriyamas. Nathaniel was safe from him. But there was only one reason Andrew could know he spoke German, and Nathaniel wanted desperately to be wrong. He shoved those thoughts down and focused on their pair practice instead.

Jean took him through their new routine in their extra practices with the same tenacity as always. Nathaniel was always fending off drowsiness while he still got used to their insane sleep schedule, so they would start on laps to get moving. If Nathaniel couldn’t master the Ravens’ first drill, he would be benched, so he put everything into it. Jean interrupted each drill with footwork so they wouldn’t blow their arms out, but they were always dangerously close to it. Jean wasn’t a sympathetic or patient teacher but he was the best Nathaniel could hope to learn from and saw the flaws in Nathaniel’s form immediately.

It would take time but what he really wanted was to get around the strikers. He had to relearn the game in Millport from that position and fell in love with it, partly because he was always faster. Being a backliner was different. He hadn’t actually played defense since little leagues and that made him clumsy. It didn’t matter if he could pass or aim while everyone else was stronger and more experienced. Riko and Kevin could check him before he could even think of where to send the ball. They were champions for a reason- everything in their lives was for Exy, and they had set him on a crash course for the same thing. The one advantage he had was his speed, and he needed to use that as soon as his body caught up. Possibly nothing else would please him more than to wipe the self satisfied grin off of Riko’s face when Nathaniel would finally learned to ruin Riko’s best shots.

Nathaniel pelted the ball to rebound on the cones as Jean did the same, calling out the order. It had been hours and Nathaniel’s arms burned with the effort to keep going. The court air conditioning was cool on his hot, sweat drenched skin. He scooped up and pelted the balls in front of him in a rhythm again and again until it was becoming second nature. He ignored the pain and pretended the cones were Riko and Coach Moriyama. His body was exhausted and pushed to the limit of what it should have been capable of, but Nathaniel had been dreaming of this impossibility for years. A few sleepless nights, a few skipped meals had nothing on a future in the pros. It meant nothing when he was going to kick the rest of the team's ass when he caught up.

After the last swing, his wrist gave out and his racquet dropped next to his feet. He had knocked over all but one cone consecutively for the last few rounds. He collapsed onto his knees, panting in hot, ragged breaths through his grin.

Jean said nothing but dropped a bottle of water at his feet and he drank it too fast, wracking pain on its way down his esophagus. Moments like this, he didn’t care how much it hurt or whether anyone noticed but him. His future felt more real with every step of progress and it only made him want it more. By now Nathaniel didn’t expect acknowledgement of any progress. That wasn’t how they did things. There was only ever constant improvement, and an all consuming hunger to be the best. Aside from one person, every single Raven was here to dominate the sport.

“Is this how the three of you learned?” Nathaniel asked. He dropped onto the floor and crossed his arm to stretch the burning muscle before it could cramp on him too badly.

Jean sat down not far from him and stretched out his legs. He hesitated before answering. Nathaniel knew that look, that reluctance. He was going to omit something.

“Yes, more or less. The master wasn’t satisfied until we could do every drill perfectly in our sleep. Riko and Kevin had an earlier start, of course, but they learned in a similar fashion.”

“When did they decide you were good enough?” Nathaniel wasn’t one for sharing and caring, and he didn’t feel like anyone’s personal life was his business, but not knowing about the Nest was dangerous. His survival depended on it.

Jean shrugged. “They didn’t. You’re way behind where you need to be, so if you’re asking when they’ll lay off on you, don’t count on it being any time soon.”

“I’m not.” As far as he was concerned, he could run himself ragged on the court all day if it meant being a champion and not playing Riko’s games.

Jean shook his head. “You should have kept running, Butcher. I hope this is worth it for you.”

Just as there were things about Jean’s life Nathaniel didn’t know, there were parts of Nathaniel’s life that Jean couldn’t have imagined, either. Jean didn’t know what it was like to run until he felt like he was dying, until he was nothing but fake names and fake personalities and so empty there was nothing but the fear, panic, grief, and the certainty of death.

“You’ve had Exy for years. You’ve had a future. Isn’t it worth it for you?” He couldn’t imagined that Jean would want to trade places.

Jean turned a dark look on Nathaniel, so that he was sure Jean was holding back from pelting him into the court floor.

“Just what I wanted, another Kevin. Maybe your mother should have given you up after all. You would have fit right in.”

Nathaniel hadn’t imagined that while he was on the run, Kevin and Riko had been losing sleep and meals to get where they were. It seemed like the better trade off from running all of your life with no home or end in sight, but he wouldn’t have traded his mom for this. Nathaniel thought of Jean shoving him against the lockers, telling him that they weren’t the same. Riko was a cast off and Kevin an orphan, but Jean must have been sold. Nathaniel couldn’t imagine a world where a mom would give up her own child willingly, even for a chance at glory. Nathaniel’s mom had died trying to keep him alive, risked everything to save him from the potential for failure. Jean’s body marked years of abuse from Riko and Tetsuji. Nathaniel's mom had hurt him, but it wasn’t out of intentional cruelty. She had saved him from that life.

But here he was anyway.

He wasn’t sure whether it was grief or hunger that wracked his body. Maybe it was both. Luckily it was hard to think when his body was so tired and pained.

 

Inevitably Nathaniel and Jean would pass out on the court floor while everyone else was asleep, too exhausted to head to the showers. They would leave the outer lights on and wait for the alarm to wake them back up.

That night, Nathaniel jolted awake to the smell of cigarette smoke. He felt eyes on him. Someone was close, but Jean was across the court passed out near the wall. Instinct told him to run from the unexpected presence but his painfully exhausted body wouldn’t let him get to his feet like he wanted. In the dark, Nathaniel could just make out the person smoking and staring down at him. Blond and bored looking as always.

“Midnight practice?” Andrew asked.

It wasn’t the words, or even that he was here. It was the German that sent a shock through Nathaniel’s body. He moved to scramble off the floor, but Andrew trapped him easily beneath his foot. Andrew put almost all of his weight on a pressure point on Nathaniel’s arm and he gasped around the sharp pain. The tread on his boot made it worse, and Nathaniel could hardly breathe. If he moved, he would break something for sure. It took everything he had to stay still.

Andrew took a slow, unconcerned drag. “Nuh uh. Where are you going?”

Shit, this was not good. How did Andrew know he spoke German? Why was he here when everyone else was asleep? It came together, frightening, dizzying. How Andrew had arrived only days before Nathaniel. Why Andrew had not cared he might cripple Nathaniel. Why he was so apathetic about Exy. On the chance that Tetsuji decided to keep Nathaniel, there could be someone to make sure he ran from the Nest. Now that he wore Riko’s mark, there was no mistaking him on the street. Everyone would recognize Neil Josten once Riko made the announcement for the new addition to his Perfect Court. His father would catch him for sure. He thought coming to Evermore and putting up with Riko’s bullshit meant protection from his father, but why had he ever thought his father would give up so easily? His father would never let him go, not after how much trouble he’d caused.

He fought to steel his expression into something that wasn’t outright panic. Jean was apparently too far away to smell the smoke, but he had to wake eventually. What could Andrew do to him in that time?

“Coach is going to kill you for smoking in here,” Nathaniel said as calmly as he could manage.

Andrew flicked the ash onto the floor near Nathaniel’s head. “No, he’s not. You’re not going to run tell your master. Right?”

Nathaniel told himself to breathe around the pain and panic. Testing, he said, “Yours, too.”

“No. I don’t have a master, unlike you.”

“You’re a Raven. Same as me.” He hoped. When Andrew said nothing in response, he pressed. “Let me go.” He was starting to lose feeling in his fingertips, pin pricks up and down his lower arm.

“So flighty.”

“Maybe I just don’t like being under someone’s heel.”

“Fooled me.”

He felt sick, but he’d had practice by now holding back his screams. “Fuck you, midget.”

Andrew’s mouth twitched into an almost smile around his cigarette. “If only you were so brave with your masters. What are you so afraid of?”

“Not you.”

Fear and anger fought for dominance in his chest. Nathaniel thought for sure Andrew was going to crush his arm. If Andrew really was sent by Nathan Wesninski, crippling his arm would nearly sign Nathaniel’s death warrant, but Andrew let go. Nathaniel sat up slowly and fought back the urge to rub away the pain. He didn’t want to give Andrew the satisfaction of watching him squirm any further.

“But you are afraid,” Andrew said coolly.

“Everyone is afraid of something.”

“If you say so.”

Andrew took another long drag. Nathaniel listened for Jean’s steady breathing and decided it would be better not to wake him. He needed to see what Andrew would do.

Nathaniel frowned. “If you aren’t afraid of the coach you’re an idiot.”

“Why would I be afraid of him?”

“He could toss you out, for one.”

“Oh, I’m shaking with fear. He wouldn’t. That would be too easy. Kevin would cry. Don’t want that.”

Nathaniel remembered his conversation with Jean. Something had to be wrong about this. If he pressed, he would catch Andrew slipping up eventually. “Interesting to say you have no master when you’ve been bought out.”

“I wasn’t bought. We had a trade. There’s a difference.”

Trade? Interesting. “If you say so.”

“You have a smart mouth for someone who is so afraid.”

Nathaniel flicked his gaze down Andrew’s form. “Short people have to find something to defend themselves with.”

Andrew gave him a wry smile and tossed the butt onto the floor. Nathaniel stomped it out as Andrew watched with amusement. Andrew asked, “How long do you think you can keep going like this?”

“As long as it takes.”

“I doubt it. Riko is going to break you.”

“He doesn’t know how,” Nathaniel promised.

“What an idiot. What do you think this means?” He tapped his cheekbone where Nathaniel’s tattoo was.

“I’ll be Court.” If he didn’t die first.

“It means you’re collared.”

Why wasn’t he trying to force Nathaniel out of the Nest yet? What was he waiting for? Everything in him told him to run, but he didn’t have that option anymore.

“That’s none of your business.”

Andrew said, “You don’t get to say that when you flaunt it on your face.”

“What do you care?’

“I don’t. It’s boring.”

Nathaniel scoffed. “I can’t be that boring when you go out of your way to talk to me.”

“It’s more interesting to keep things moving.”

Like Nathaniel himself? “What are you, a dog?”

“I’m starting to think you are. You’re like a pet that’s fallen asleep with his toy in his mouth because he can’t let it go. Pathetic.”

“I’ll tell you what’s pathetic, trapping someone in the middle of the night like a coward.”

“It’s pathetic to hand someone the end of your leash, coward.”

Don’t freak out, he told himself. What could Andrew do? If he meant to hurt Nathaniel, he would have done it. He was waiting for Nathaniel to run and that wasn’t going to work. Andrew was going to try, though, and he had to be ready.

“What do you get out of it?”

Andrew’s expression changed, but he couldn’t quite read it in the dark.

“Not a thing, kid.” He left without another word.

Nathaniel took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling the dissipating smoke and watched him go. Not this again. He should have been safe.

He hugged his knees to his chest. Through that panic was an absurd, all consuming anger. His mother had died protecting him. He had put up with the Moriyamas’ shit, only for what? To be cornered and intimidated by his father from the inside out? Hell no. This was not happening. Nathaniel may feel like he was being torn in two all of the time, but he had made his choice. He was staying. He could have this, and his father wasn’t going to force him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Secretly you love this, do you even wanna go free?  
> //  
> But victory's contagious..."  
> Glory and Gore -Lorde
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	7. Notes and Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thank you so much for your patience. I know it's been awhile since this updated but we're back on track and ready to go! This one is a change of pace— Andrew POV for extra fun. A few later chapters will be from his POV as well. Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> As always, thank you so much to come_on_eileen for her amazing beta work! You always have the best feedback. It wouldn't be the same without you <3 Thank you also to my sister Lovekaneki for her help and constant support as well. You both rock!

One of the things Andrew didn’t like about the Nest was the utter lack of privacy. He took as many smoke breaks as he could and it was never enough. They all ate together, practiced together, every damn thing together. Showering around a bunch of men he didn’t like was exactly at the edge of his tolerance. But he did it anyway because he’d come here, and showing weakness in front of this team would be a mistake. Andrew knew all too well how weaknesses could be exploited in close quarters, and how you got to know people even when you didn’t want to. In a place like this, you noticed things. Or at least he did.

Like the strange freshmen who showed up a week after him. The kid had the shifty eyes of a small animal trespassing on dangerous grounds. Neil was currently kneeling on the shower floor across the room next to Jean. His breathing was ragged after their grueling practice. They were both covered in bruises and what Andrew recognized as fresh knife wounds. Andrew couldn’t see Neil’s front, but from what he could see, Neil’s skin was littered with old scars, too. Andrew also noticed that no one else asked them about it.

Being around the others by now was a physical sensation. He could feel how close Dylan always was like an itch on his skin. He was conscious of how many there were, and of lingering eyes. The two girls showered there, too, but he didn’t care about them. They weren’t his problem. Andrew showered and dressed as fast as he could without showing how uncomfortable he was. If he seemed stiff, it could easily be his sore muscles slowing him down.

By the time Andrew scrubbed his hair semi-dry in the humidity, Neil was still moving at a snail’s pace. Andrew checked around the room briefly. Most of the team had already showered, Kevin and Riko the first ones to shower and leave. Andrew stopped behind the kid on his way out. Jean’s scars were clearly from Riko, but the kid? Andrew had a lot of questions.

“Take a picture,” Andrew heard the kid rasp under the shower spray. He said it so slowly, it was like he used all of his energy just to say those few words. It was unoriginal, but Andrew still liked the cheek. Jean eyed him nervously and pretended not to do so.

“Riko do all that?” he asked.

Neil choked one dry, incredulous laugh.

“He wishes.”

The kid went back to agonizingly washing his hair. With his head bent like that, Andrew could see the smallest hint of color under his black hair. 

Dylan finally caught up with Andrew and he led them out of the showers. It was time for another cigarette. And lock picking tools. He would need to wait until nightfall, for when the coach left for one of his meetings as he did every Monday evening. Then Andrew could find out what Kevin wasn’t willing to tell him.

 

It wasn’t that hard, really. Tetsuji Moriyama turned out to be so egotistical that he never suspected any of his Ravens would sneak into his office. Either that, or he didn’t keep anything incriminating or consequential there. Why bother, anyway? The entire Nest was incriminating. 

Either way, Andrew was able to pick the lock to his office in no time. He spared a glance to the coach’s desk, where they had talked his first night at the Nest. He hadn’t seen any cameras then. And if he did get caught, oh well. Not the end of the world. Andrew kept his ears open for Ravens and browsed until he found the cabinet where Moriyama had pulled his file that first night. He picked that lock too, and dug up all he could on the so-called Neil Josten.

There was almost nothing of interest to Andrew, except for how sparse the file was. All the others had years worth of history — notes about their family, grades, friends, and of course Exy statistics. What was remarkable about Josten was how he resembled someone cut out of paper, a life easily assembled and taken down. All Andrew wanted was some proof of what this kid was outside of the Nest, but there was nothing. 

Until he looked in the Coach’s personal desk. All of those drawers were locked. He unlocked each one until he found a beat up black binder at the bottom drawer. At first glance it was a fanboy’s scrapbook for Kevin and Riko, taped together and totally out of place in Moriyama’s pristine office. That was interesting. 

Andrew thumbed through the files, careful not to leave obvious fingerprints or creases. There was more than just Exy. There were random numbers filling pages, and a gaps in the folders that looked like something else had been taken out. The most interesting part was how the clippings came from media sources not only all across the country, but all over the world. Some were in German, others in French. The languages alone were a tip off, but he wasn’t sure it was Neil’s until he flipped to the last page. It was a Millport High newspaper article about the Exy team’s embarassing loss early in the season. And at the top, a photo of Neil making one last, desperate shot at the end of the game.

Neil’s Millport file showed a kid who had just picked up Exy his first year in town, stumbling through the striker position. This binder was the real Neil Josten- or whatever his name was. This was year after year of articles, news clippings, and anything else the kid could find on his favorite Exy players. Kevin was right, the kid was absolutely obsessed. With Kevin and Riko, too. 

Andrew took a single page out of the binder, one that looked like it had been handled so much over the years that some of the print had been worn away and creased to being nearly illegible. He locked the drawer, put the article in his pocket, and checked for his note to Kevin. Then he went to find the Exy slaves in Red Hall.

He wasn’t sure why the two were allowed back in their own room instead of sleeping on the court. Maybe it was a reward for improvement, or because Jean wasn’t feeling any better. There were no locks on any of the bedrooms that he knew of, so he let himself into their room without knocking. Jean jerked up from his bed and dropped his book next to him. Neil was sleeping, curled up on his side. Andrew shut the door slow and silent behind him and brought a finger up to his lips.

Jean glared at him but didn’t get up. “The hell do you want, Doe?”

Andrew came over to Jean’s bed. “I said be quiet, Frenchie. We need to have a chat.”

“That so?”

Andrew nodded. “You’re going to give our buddy Kevin a little message for me.”

Jean leaned back against his pillow and served Andrew a bored look through his lashes. “I’m tired of being Kevin’s carrier pigeon. I’m not going to be yours, too.”

“Oh, but you will.” Andrew dropped the note next to Jean’s book. “After all, you do whatever you’re told. Don’t you?”

Jean only feigned boredom this time. There was murder behind that mask. “I don’t take orders from incompetent, juvie trash midgets.”

“Better than a Moriyama lap dog.”

Andrew waited for Jean to kick him out, but Jean wasn’t moving. Of course not. People like them, they could tell when someone was serious. That was one advantage he had in the Nest. Ravens were physically fit, aggressive bullies, but everyone else was dying to stay for Exy. If push came to shove, Andrew had far less motivation to hold back. 

He leaned in close to Jean. “I’m a little tired of this back and forth with Kevin. He has pretty tight lips around Riko. Too bad they’re attached at the hip. I’d say it’s more than a little suspicious picky Riko has already marked this kid.”

“He’s possessive.”

“Is that all? Speaking of, didn’t Neil play striker in Millport? Why did he change positions?”

“Didn’t know you cared about Exy, Doe.”

There was a different tone to his voice this time. Dangerous territory.

“I really don’t. But it doesn’t look like he has any experience as a back liner. Why bother?”

“I don’t know. I’m not Riko.”

“Ah, but you’re lying. Do you need motivation?”

Jean eyed the black armbands that Andrew always wore. He had no problem reading into the threat. He met Andrew’s stare as a silent invitation. Jean had a good poker face. Andrew supposed that had been learned with much experience thanks to Riko. 

“Is your loyalty to Riko that strong?”

“I am a Raven,” Jean said by way of explanation.

“Is that all?”

“You know nothing, Doe.”

“But I will. Tell me.”

Andrew wasn’t expecting Jean to be honest with him, but there were too many secrets here. He was pretty sure he knew what was going on, even if Kevin refused to tell him everything. 

Jean offered nothing else. Andrew glanced at Neil. His breathing was fast and shallow as if in a nightmare.

“He has a lot of scars. I know where yours are from. What about him?”

“Who knows.”

“You.” He turned back to Jean. “Do you want to leave?”

Jean scoffed. “I’m destined for Court. What do you think?”

“I think I’d rather kill myself than spend the rest of my life with Riko.”

Jean tapped the book with his thumb in an agitated rhythm. It would have been so much more interesting if Jean snapped on him, but apparently a fight wasn’t worth it.

“Whatever fantasies you’re entertaining, Doe, it will get you killed.”

“I am not afraid of your master.”

Jean was silent for a long minute. Finally, he said, “I have no choice.”

“You and Kevin keep saying that. I’m not impressed. Here, I found this. Since Neil is such a big fan.” Andrew dropped the news clipping on Neil’s side of their dresser.  He turned to leave. “He’s going to break. Are you okay with that?”

“He chose to stay.”

“Did he? Did he really think he had a choice? I’m thinking he sees walls and no doors. Is that what you see?”

“I see a midget that needs to get out of my room.”

“Oh. Will you force me out? You are much taller. Want to try? 

Jean picked his book back up and tucked the note inside of it.

“Good to know, Jean Moreau.”

Andrew left without another word.

 

It took a few days for Neil to get back to him. Every chance he took, he stared Andrew down from across the court, or the kitchen. Whatever that binder was, it meant something to him. Unfortunately for whatever reason, Neil was reluctant to leave Jean’s side. But Jean was sick and getting slower at practice. Three days after their chat, Jean was practically dead on his feet in the showers. The two backliners disappeared to their rooms without getting lunch. Andrew gave him some time, played some pool, then went back to Red Hall. No sign of Josten so far. Then, when Dylan went to open their own door —

“Oh, he’s gonna kill you,” Dylan said into the room.

Bingo.

Andrew shoved Dylan out of the way. Neil stood empty handed and angry in the doorway. When Andrew spoke, it was in German.

“Oh, Neil. To what do I owe this honor?”

Neil offered him an awful, promising smile. “Thought I’d dig for bones.”

“Oh.” Andrew leaned a little closer. “Did you find any?”

“Not yet.”

Andrew nodded. He wasn’t sure why Neil was so paranoid about him, but it wasn’t something he would get out of Neil with anyone watching. For what they needed to talk about, they needed no witnesses.

“I’ll let you live on one condition. You will talk to me when I come for you. Yes?”

Neil nodded, too. 

“Get out. I don’t want your French friend asking any questions.”

Neil disappeared down the hall and Dylan shut the door behind them.

“What was that all about?” Dylan asked. Andrew dug his cigarettes out of his dresser. Nothing in the room looked like it had been touched, but Andrew was sure he’d gone through everything. It was just a pity everyone was still awake. 

“None of your business,” Andrew mumbled through his cigarette.

There was a knock on the door. Andrew opened it with a huff, but it was just one of the lower ranked dealers.

“The master wants to see you both.”

“Hm.” Andrew pushed past him, heading towards the door to outside. It was either one of the coach’s regular meetings, or he’d discovered his office had been broken into. Either way, he wasn’t keen on talking to him just yet.

Dylan followed him but knew better than to touch him. “You can’t be serious. We can’t leave the master waiting.”

“We can’t leave the master waiting,” Andrew mocked. “Fuck off.”

“I’m tired of your shitty attitude, Doe,” Dylan said. “I’m not getting a beating for your shit.”

“Do something about it. It worked so well for you last time.”

“Fucking-” 

Dylan grabbed Andrew’s shoulder. White hot anger jolted through his body. Andrew grabbed his wrist, shoved him against the wall, and had a knife at Dylan’s ribs before he could take another breath. The dealer was still there and neither said a word.

“Cigarette first. Moriyama after.”

Dylan breathed shallow and when he spoke next, it was barely a whisper. “The master won’t let this shit fly for long, Andrew. That isn’t how the Nest works.”

Andrew pressed the knife up so he could feel the pressure of cloth and taut skin. Dylan held his breath.

“Do not touch me again. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.”

Andrew slipped his knife back into his armband and went to have his cigarette in relative peace. He planned to have another after their meeting. He was going to need it.

 

In fact, the coach had not discovered Andrew’s break in. He did however have a few words to say over Andrew’s persistent attitude and “lack of performance” on the court. Andrew had a few words for him, too, and the coach had answered him with heavy hands and words meant to break Andrew down. Dylan might have walked out of there stiff and head bowed, but this was nothing new for Andrew. 

He leaned back against the cool brick and took a long drag, watching the smoke curl up and disappear into the air. The summer night was humid and stifling, but he could still breathe better out here. He ignored the ache in his muscles and sent it to the place he put the rest of the anger, just under the surface until he could let it out.

From the first night Moriyama laid a hand on Andrew, he knew he wasn’t going to last at Evermore without taking someone’s life. Most of the Ravens were the worst kind of people — cowardly, sadistic bullies, and everyday they were pressing more of his buttons. He had some shit to take care of before he lost his cool. Andrew may have signed a contract, but he wasn't about spend five years in this hell-hole. If he was right, he wouldn't have to.

On his left came the squelch of wet grass under sneakers. Kevin and Riko were making their way to him in the dark. Up close, Andrew could see fresh bruises on their arms that hadn’t been there after practice, though their faces were pristine as always.

Kevin stopped two feet away from Andrew’s spot against the wall. Andrew’s skin prickled with the familiar heat of being surrounded on enemy territory, but he was careful not to let that show on his face. Riko looked at him the same as always, with cool disinterest and derision. Kevin was visibly furious. Andrew took a deep drag and blew it up into their faces.

“A visit from number one and number two. I’m so lucky.”

“You really are far more stupid than I thought you were, Andrew. What the fuck do you think you’re doing pissing off the master like that?”

“Oh. Did you get boo boos because of me?”

Kevin flinched in a way Andrew recognized as not fear but physically holding himself back from pounding someone into the dirt. If Kevin touched him, every deal they had was off. They had come to that understanding his first week in Evermore. 

“You are not going to make a fool of me just because you want to act like a petulant child. Why did you agree to come here if you won’t give it everything you have?”

“You’re the one that said I wouldn’t have to play nice. I consider that backing out on our agreement. And what is a man without his word?” Andrew took one last drag and dropped the filter onto the ground at their feet.

“Andrew, do you understand what will happen if the master decides to let you go? You will have nothing. Don’t make me regret this.”

“Hm. Your reputation isn’t my concern, Kevin Day.”

Riko finally spoke up. “I told you. This one isn’t worth it. A man with no thirst for victory can never be a champion.”

Kevin huffed. “No. I’m not through with him yet. You know I’m right, Andrew.”

“This conversation is boring,” Andrew said.

Riko answered for both of them by stepping into his space. When he spoke, his voice was low and sure.

“Kevin may have patience for you, but mine is limited. I’ve given him a chance. You have until the start of the season. If I do not see any improvement, Kevin’s time is up, and then you’ll have to deal with me. I’m the captain here, and you’ll have to learn that if Kevin doesn’t teach you to learn your place. Do you understand?”

The knives on his forearms itched to be in his hands. Andrew tapped a finger against his lips and slid a look at Kevin. Minutely, Kevin shook his head, his eyes silently pleading Andrew not to do anything stupid. He remembered Kevin’s last note— _don’t do anything stupid. Please. I’ll agree, so long as you don’t piss him off._

“I don’t respond well to threats, Riko.”

“That wasn’t a threat.”

“Promise, then? Oh, good. I like those.”

Riko smiled, the awful, hungry kind. “Do you know what the master said? Some dogs you can’t save or train. Some just have to be put down.”

“Here I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

Riko stepped back. “Come, Kevin. I want some tea.” He started off without looking back.

Just before Kevin could follow, he pressed a folded paper into Andrew’s hand. When they disappeared, Andrew opened the note. 

_ Yes, you’re right. Neil is just like Jean.  _ Oh, good. Finally honesty.

_ Yes, I know about the bruises and everything else. I can’t do anything about it.  _ What a liar. Everyone in a bad place had to make a choice. There wasn’t any way around it. He  _ wouldn’t  _ do anything about it, and Andrew couldn’t forgive that compliance.

_ I told you to be careful. Why won’t you listen to me? _


	8. Heathens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to come_on_eileen and my sister for their help! And thank you for reading! Hope you're enjoying it :)

Nathaniel was always paranoid about Andrew now. There was almost nowhere in the Nest to go without being seen. For someone who had spent his life hiding from prying eyes, it was extremely uncomfortable and made his skin crawl. He caught Andrew watching sometimes with his psychotically blank expression. Nathaniel really couldn’t spare any energy for extra paranoia, so he used those eyes as a shield. If he was never alone, Andrew could only do so much to him, and he was mostly sure the coach and Riko wouldn’t take kindly to having their property pushed out. They must have researched Andrew. Either they missed something or they didn’t care about his violent history. So far, he had no chance to sneak away and do some investigating of his own. If Andrew didn’t have his binder in his room, it must be in the master’s office. The idea of breaking in there felt like a hell of a risk, but it wouldn’t cost him his life. He’d be fine.

Nathaniel considered, briefly, that he was over thinking all of this, but he hadn’t survived this long by giving the benefit of the doubt. He held onto the bastard sport as his one lifeline until he could get away.

Training in the Nest was like being emptied out and filled in with only Exy. It left an insatiable need that was fed watching champions at work. Every day he was more impatient to catch up. He didn’t remember actually sleeping, but if he dreamed it was definitely him on the court. When he wasn’t practicing, his fingers itched to grip and swing his racquet. It was black and red with taut netting and had become like a phantom limb he kept reaching for, his stomach dropping when his fingers fell through air instead of finding its weight. His feet tapped and twitched anxiously to complete maneuvers and drills Jean had taught him.

The more time he spent with Jean, the more they were changing from two fractured parts into one being, slowly coming into sync. Nathaniel now looked for him on instinct. He thought sometimes that this Raven co-dependence should set alarms off in his head, but he was too busy running himself into the ground. If he was really honest with himself, the familiarity of looking out for someone else’s back and having Jean look out for his, eased the insane pressure somewhat. It was never okay, but it could be almost tolerable.

 

One morning, Nathaniel went, bleary eyed, to the kitchen side by side with Jean. As they poured black coffee and scrambled their eggs, he saw four new faces. Freshmen, all noticeable by their blatant hungry arrogance as each of them spoke with their new partners, already trying to match the derisive Raven attitude. They stuck out easily, maybe because they were fresh faced and young, instead of hard with lack of sleep and daily, brutal practice. He wondered exactly what their expectations were for this team.

“They’re in for a surprise,” Nathaniel muttered to Jean in French.

Jean sniffled and coughed. Nathaniel stepped a little away from him. He didn’t need to get sick as well. Being stuck in such close quarters would surely bring an epidemic of some kind, and both Riko and Coach Moriyama wouldn’t offer lenience. But Jean said nothing about it and picked out a spot in the middle of one of the tables. Several Ravens moved aside to make way for them.

The rest of the Ravens piled in, a mass of sleepy black blobs as they drank their coffee. Nathaniel hadn’t cared much for coffee before but now it was his life blood. He was useless without it.

Nathaniel felt eyes on him and found Andrew sitting with his back to the wall. He stared back. I won’t let you, he tried to say silently. It won’t work. I’m staying. Andrew tapped two fingers to his temple before one of the freshmen interrupted him. Nathaniel could just barely make out the kid’s excited comments about Andrew’s stats and how excited he was to be on the same team. Andrew leveled him with a murderous stare until the kid left, grinning nervously.

Jean elbowed him hard enough in the ribs and whispered in furious French.

“The hell are you doing, Butcher? Stop staring.”

“He started it.”

“Who cares? Do you want to get killed?”

Nathaniel thought for a moment, and then said hesitantly, “Wouldn’t the master be bothered if Andrew killed one of his own?”

Jean gave him a blank look. “You think Andrew would give the master a chance to step in?”

“This place is in such close quarters. We’re never alone. I would think it would be difficult.”

“A man can find a way. Don’t be stupid. There are eyes everywhere but those eyes blink. You understand?”

Nathaniel nodded, trying to breath around the constant thrum of anxiety in his chest.

“Why are you so afraid of him, Jean? You’ve grown up with gangster rejects, but you’re afraid of Andrew?”

Jean shrugged. “I know how to recognize someone not to fuck with. I would have thought you’re the same but apparently not.”

“I think there’s something more to it.” Nathaniel stared at Jean, but having been grilled by Riko all his life, he hardly flinched under Nathaniel’s stare. “What do you know?”

Jean ignored him and ate his breakfast. Nathaniel searched for Kevin and Riko. They were talking at a table by themselves, nodding or shaking their heads as they looked at each of the freshmen.

“You don’t think Riko would protect you,” he finally guessed. “He would let you get hurt. But you’re future Court. Doesn’t that mean something?”

Jean turned to him slowly before leaning in. Nathaniel resisted the urge to lean back.

“If you think you have any protection with Riko, you’re even dumber than I thought you were.”

 

Those words followed Nathaniel, snarling in his ear as he stepped onto the court after changing. He needed to ground himself in the game so he didn’t feel his father’s hands on him with every step. After the first drill, any escape from his anxiety proved impossible.

“Line up! Again!”

Coach Moriyama’s voice bellowed over the court and ate its way into Nathaniel’s chest. He felt hollow and brittle, like the master could see right through him to every fault and knock him over with a whisper. That Nathaniel was no longer the main object of his fury was a small consolation.

Nathaniel lined up for the first precision drill. It was almost second nature to him now, but the master was never satisfied. On the next command, Nathaniel swung in sync with Jean. He still flinched when he heard the whish and thud of his cane against flesh.

He didn’t want to hear what the master was saying, didn’t want to hear the cries of shock and pain. He gripped his racquet and waited for the call to continue. It was weird. For a moment, he was in the basement of his father’s house as Nathan Wesninski called out for him to stop hiding. Only the when he heard the swish of twenty five racquets into formation was he yanked back onto the court. He didn’t feel much better. Because of the freshmen’s failings, the whole team was pushed longer and harder than normal. The master’s criticisms were biting and consistent with every infraction. He yelled for so long his voice was hoarse. The heaviness in Nathaniel’s chest and sharpness in his veins never left and he fought to hold himself in the present with every body slam and clack of racquets.

When the master called an end to practice, Nathaniel was anxious to leave the court for the first time. The freshmen were dragging their feet. A new wave of anxiety pulled him under when the master didn’t leave yet. He gestured for them to line up and addressed the Ravens as a whole. Nathaniel felt like the walls were caving in as the master walked up and down the line.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves today. This practice was a mockery of what Exy should be. I did not create this sport so that arrogant children could play at it on my court and disgrace themselves.” He stopped to level them with a final look. “Until each of you masters these drills, you will be benched along with your sophmore partners. Either catch up or leave. Failure is not an option here.”

There was a hum of something dark on the court as the master’s footsteps echoed in the silence. Nathaniel remembered the Ravens attacking the goalkeepers, and Jean’s mentioning that they would have done the same to him if Riko hadn’t put himself in charge of his progress.

Then the upperclassmen were on the four freshmen as one black swirling mass. Nathaniel stepped back to see the master leaving without even a glance back even amid the cries of pain. Taken by surprise, Johnson caught Nathaniel around the neck and pulled him to the ground. Dark rage ate through him and his fists found their way against flesh. He was all adrenaline and blood lust. There was blood on his tongue and red in his vision as he swung madly at his attacker without really seeing.

Later, he came to with a throbbing head and the taste of blood in his mouth. He was on his bed and the lights were off. That meant Jean had carried him to their room after practice.

Jean lay on his back on his own bed, breathing deep and slow, but he turned when Nathaniel sat up.

He tested his lip. Busted.

“Does that happen every year?” Nathaniel asked.

Jean’s voice was harsh and strained. “What do you think, Butcher?”

Nathaniel lay back down with a groan. It hurt too badly to sit up.

“You are all fucking crazy. And not in a good way.”

Jean shrugged. “It’s the Nest. The master trains champions, not second rates.”

“Does anyone ever quit after that?”

“Rarely. Anyone that joins isn’t just taken in for their stats. It’s their attitude. The master needs to think he can mold each one of them into what he wants. Not that he’s ever had a problem.”

“Even Andrew?” Nathaniel asked before he could stop himself. He couldn’t imagine Andrew being “molded.”

Jean sat up and turned to him slowly. “Just what is your obsession with that man? If you want to fuck him, get it over with. Ravens only fuck other Ravens anyway.”

“Uh. No thanks. I’m not fucking anyone. And I have no interest in who fucks who, so don’t bother filling me in.”

“Then why do you keep asking about him?”

For a moment, Nathaniel imagined telling Jean the truth. Jean already knew who he was, there wasn’t really any reason not to. But lying was so second nature to him by now that all he could imagine was Jean dismissing his fears as paranoia.

“By now I expected someone to take care of his attitude towards Exy.”

Jean scoffed. “You didn’t see him his first day here. It was unbelievable. He refused to play, but you remember how I said he’s Kevin’s problem? Kevin laid into him, and it wasn’t doing any good. He got so angry he started pelting balls straight for Andrew’s head. He knew Andrew was going to get him in trouble, too. It worked. Andrew played, but he aims almost all his rebounds for player’s heads.”

“Yeah, I noticed. I thought he was just being an asshole.” Nathaniel thought back to his first time on the Ravens’ court, when Kevin and Andrew had a chat away from the rest of the team, and Jean carrying a message to Andrew that Nathaniel didn’t hear. “Did he make another deal with him, to make him play? That seems a little too easy.”

“That’s none of our business.”

Jean sounded aggravated enough that Nathaniel knew he wasn’t getting any more out of him. “So no one tried hazing him?”

“That was his hazing. Every striker aimed for his body and he shot it straight back at them. I’m sure everyone thought Andrew would kill them if they tried something off the court right off. But that’s what Ravens do. They let off steam by beating the shit out of each other.”

Jean stood up, slow and aching. “Come on. Alarm will ring soon.”

At breakfast, Jean moved slowly and shot down at more attempts at conversation. They were halfway through their morning coffee when Riko pulled up in front of Nathaniel with Kevin promptly at his side. Two Ravens got up to make way.

“Well, Neil. You’re looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed this morning. Get enough sleep?”

Nathaniel bit back the urge to yank Riko across the table and stab him in the eye with his own fork.

“Yes,” he lied.

Riko smiled over his steaming mug of green tea.

Kevin practically seethed over at him. “You better improve on the court today,” Kevin warned him. “I don’t want to hear any slacking off, or the master will have it out for all of us and then I’ll personally beat the shit out of you for it.”

“The master of morale as always. You could always look away,” Nathaniel suggested.

“We won’t be here to see it. We’ll be at an away game.”

How Kevin and Riko could play for the Baltimore Wildcats and Edgar Allan was beyond him. Just thinking of Baltimore made him feel sick. At the same time, if the two of them were playing in the pros, that had to mean this was the beginning of June. He’d forgotten all about normal things like dates and seasons when he was underground. He’d been here just over a month.

That thought made him feel very tired.

“Wildcats huh? Don’t you like sleep, Kevin?”

“I can sleep when we have victory.”

We, not I. Nathaniel was sure he didn’t imagine the hesitation in his voice. Nathaniel wanted to believe that Kevin would rise up against Riko and the master one day, but it didn’t look like it would be any time soon.

Jean cleared his throat and drank a good gulp of coffee. He set the mug back on the table with a slight rattle.

Why were his hands shaking? Was he that worse off?

“Aw,” Riko said. “Having another of your bad throat weeks, Jean?”

Jean shook his head. That was when Nathaniel knew something was up.

“Don’t lie to me Jean. I don’t like it.” Riko continued in Japanese. It was hard to tell with the language, but with Riko it was never a good thing. Japanese, when spoken by Riko and the master, sounded so harsh and interchangeable. It was hard to pick up on pronunciation, and the sentence order was so different from English. But Neil had learned two other languages almost entirely by immersion. Nathaniel was finding it easier to intuit the order and the words, even if he didn’t know what they meant. Riko seemed to like having a back channel of language where Nathaniel couldn’t understand. It gave him an advantage. Maybe that was why he wasn’t getting Nathaniel to learn. He could still do this, talk like Nathaniel wasn’t even in the room. Riko could smile at Nathaniel and he couldn’t understand a word.

But he was learning.

Jean was tensed with his head bowed into his breakfast. Nathaniel knew that body language, too. It was now clear to him when Riko was planning for something awful, which was usually.

Not for the first time, Nathaniel fantasized about stomping Riko’s smiling face into the ground until his perfect white teeth clacked together on the concrete and his face matched his black and red jersey. For a moment, Nathaniel smiled on the inside. One day, he was going to beat Riko into the ground. One day he was going to get away with it, but if he was punished for it, so be it. By then he would make sure he wouldn’t be so easily disposable. When Riko made him Court, Nathaniel was going to make Riko’s life a living hell.

“Which reminds me, Neil,” Riko said in a voice like cold sunshine. “We’re going to meet with Exy magazine this summer. Just before the big first game. The press wants to know who you are. They’re very curious.”

What? Nathaniel couldn’t hold back all of the surprise off his face. He was leaving? Or were they coming here? Magazine? Nathaniel had spent so much time keeping his face hidden, his identity safe, that the idea of being made public for all of the Exy world to see was both terrifying and tantalizing. It sounded more official. Safer, almost. Nathaniel had the tattoo, but he had no idea whether the outside world knew about him. He had been so focused on his game he hadn’t even considered dealing with the press. Inside the Nest felt like a totally different world like something unreal and secret that would disintegrate like mist when he stepped out into the sunshine. Having his face plastered on the front of a magazine meant they couldn’t just up and dispose of him if they wanted to.

Right?

“I didn’t know the press cared about some nobody from Arizona.”

“They will. Especially when they see I’ve picked you personally. It’ll be your big debut. As a Raven, as an athlete, as someone in my personal circle. They’re going to eat you up.”

Nathaniel’s automatic instinct was to run. It would take some getting used to to know that publicity would actually keep him safe. They weren’t just keeping him in a hole in the ground to play for the master personally like some little pet. He had a future, and it was about to be public. He would exist, out in the real world. For real.

His heart began to beat with savage joy.

And out of the corner of his eye, Andrew was staring daggers.

If he could survive that long. Andrew probably didn’t care about publicity.

Suddenly Nathaniel wished the magazine was today. That Riko wasn’t leaving. Riko didn’t mean safety, but it felt less likely for Andrew to strike with Riko beside him even if Jean dismissed it. Nathaniel didn’t like that feeling, like a beaten dog sticking close to its master to avoid another. That was exactly what this was and he hated it. He needed to distract himself so he went with a wandering thought.

“If you’re building the perfect court, aren’t you going to pick other positions?”

Riko snorted. “You act like it’s easy to find players up to my expectations.”

“I didn’t think I was.”

Riko stared right through him and Nathaniel definitely knew he had misunderstood the statement.

“You better be. I choose my court for talent and loyalty. You have both and they belong to me. Unless you think this was all a big mistake?”

“No,” Nathaniel said quickly. He pressed, “But I know you must have considered wanting other positions.” Riko would love the chance to own the entire US Court. That was a dream. All of his team directly under his boot, on and off the court.

Riko smiled and Nathaniel saw Kevin fidget.

“Kevin has someone in mind. I’m not impressed,” Riko admitted.

“The midget,” Nathaniel said without having to guess. Exactly the opposite of Nathaniel’s own dream. Playing with that psycho for years to come? Nathaniel nearly wanted to hang himself just thinking about it.

Riko snorted. “That one. With the attitude worse than yours. Now that’s impressive.”

Kevin said, “He has potential. He just needs time.”

Riko shook his head. “Potential isn’t everything. I know you’re a rosy eyed softie but not everyone can match up to our expectations. He will never be the kind of team player I need on my court.”

“I don’t want to play with that psycho on the court,” Nathaniel pressed.

Riko and Kevin shared a twin look of disgust and Riko chided him.

“You can be picky once you’ve played for us. Once you’ve played on our court.” Riko scoffed. “Let’s go, Kevin. I want to get there early to strike fear into the cowardly hearts of our opponents. This is going to be a joke.”

“True,” Kevin agreed.

Riko turned to Jean, who Nathaniel realized belatedly had been dead silent for the rest of the conversation. What had Riko said to him?

“Keep an eye on him, Jean. I don’t want him picking fights while I’m gone, or we’ll all hear it from the master.”

“Get it, you mean,” Kevin elaborated. Riko left with Kevin. Nathaniel turned to Jean.

“What did he say to you?” Nathaniel asked.

Jean shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Jean.”

“Let’s go.”

Nathaniel sighed but followed suit. He would find out. There were only so many secrets a Raven could hide in this place. Eventually it would all come out. It would only take time.

Belatedly, Nathaniel put some of the words together in his head. He’d heard one before, an ugly word, and he finally knew what it might mean. Riko had hurt Jean in the past, and Jean had tried to warn Nathaniel about it, how bad Riko could be. But Nathaniel had ignored him because the shiny prize in front of him was too beautiful not to grasp.

Who had Jean been, before Riko and the master twisted him, stomped him under foot, and turned him into their slave? There was a Jean hidden there, Nathaniel knew, even if it couldn’t exist now without Exy or a companion by his side at all times. It was destruction, but that wasn’t the right word. Transformation, but that was too glorified to really fit. Jean would never be who he was before, and already Nathaniel was a different person than he had been before he arrived.

Or had he always been this person, and it just took the Nest for him to realize that that was who he truly was, underneath every alias and change of face and identity? He knew he had always been a coward, always chosen to run because there had been no other choice but death. Had he always been like this? Someone who would bend this far? Hurt others so he wouldn’t get hurt himself? He had made similar choices but it never felt this intimate. Living like this, he wasn’t allowed to turn his head. He wasn’t allowed to run or pretend. There were no secrets, no illusions. Only the Raven truth in red light in front of all of his team mates. He was a coward and he knew it. And, when he was forced to think about it, he wished it could have been different. What would his life be like if he was in this situation, but he’d had something to stand on? Some courage to draw from? When Riko pushed, would Nathaniel have continued to fight back instead of ceding? Would he die and be okay with it? Or continue to hand his soul over to the Moriyamas on a silver platter? He had always belonged to them and hadn’t known it.

 

Practice was just the same as the day before, except that the freshmen were benched so they could see what a real game looked like, according to the master. Thanks to the extra work, by the end of the second day Jean’s body finally gave in. Without Riko there to check, Jean led them into their own room for once. He was still sore and aching from the previous day’s beating and the soft bed called to him, but with Jean passed out, Nathaniel finally had an opening. He waited until the rest of the Ravens were sleeping and moved silent and quiet down the halls to the master’s office.

Nathaniel brought some paper clips with him and got to work on the master’s lock. He guessed the master didn’t expect anyone to be bold or stupid enough to break in. It only took a few minutes.

Even stepping inside the office felt like dangerous territory. He kept on ear peeled for Ravens and quickly, methodically, searched through the files until he found one labelled “Doe, A.”

Most of it was basic statistics. He marvelled at Andrew’s high school stats for only a moment before setting that aside. There were medical records. He was supposed to see a therapist every week, court ordered. Funny, he never missed practice, so either the master ignored that or it was during his off time. There was mention of scarring on his arms from the Raven nurse, who Nathaniel still hadn’t seen. The nurse wondered about past abuse in the notes, but suspected self injury.

After that, Nathaniel found a decent summary of Andrew’s whole life. Foster system since he was born, over ten homes. He stayed with the Spears family longest, beginning at age thirteen. He was sent to juvie not long after for a B & E and destruction of federal property. That was where he learned Exy. He came back at sixteen and two years later was waiting to be put on trial for the murder of his foster brother, Drake.

The files suggested outright murder because Andrew was noted as giving absolutely no statement on the subject and showed no remorse. The judge ruled self-defense seemingly out of nowhere.

The most interesting part was the mention of a witness to the murder, who also refused to give a statement. The notes in the margin questioned whether the sixteen-year-old was too traumatized to testify. Xander Spears was Drake’s younger cousin, and was staying with his extended family for his sophomore year in high school. The one thing out of place was a scrawl in Japanese. He could only guess that it was the master’s comments on the matter, and he felt in his gut that it was important. He would have to come back to it later.

For as long as he dared, Nathaniel searched the office for his binder. It took him a long time, but he finally found it stashed in one of the master’s drawers. It felt good to lay hands on it again. He shoved down the feeling of white hot rage that someone else had touched it. The master would notice if he took it. Maybe it was old habit, but he took the pages with his contacts hidden in number sequences. This was his, the only thing that really belonged to him in the whole world, and he wanted it close. Even if it wouldn’t do him any good.

Then he went back to bed and fell into a light, fitful sleep.

 

The creak of the door opening jerked him to consciousness. There were no locks on the doors but no one had ever just come into their room before. Nathaniel tensed and reached for something to grab as a weapon, but hesitated when he saw that it wasn’t the midget. It was two of the upperclassmen. They were grinning darkly with self-satisfaction.

This wasn’t good.

“Aw, fast asleep is he? Works for me.”

“Get out,” Nathaniel ordered. He didn’t know why they were here, but they couldn’t want anything good. Nathaniel’s breathing was a little wheezy. From experience, he knew that his ribs were definitely bruised.

He stood up and stepped between the upperclassmen when they headed for Jean.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like, shrimpy?” The taller one shoved him aside with surprising ease. They drew back the covers from Jean’s bed.

Oh, no.

“Get the fuck out of here or Riko is going to have your head.”

The two of them looked at each other and burst into incredulous laughter.

“Is he serious right now?” the other one asked the tallest. Nathaniel thought the shorter one’s name was Bryan.

“Kid, fuck off or we’ll have our fun with you, too.”

“Fuck off yourself and get out of my room.”

At their next move, Nathaniel slammed his body into the taller one’s ribs, ignoring the way sharp pain darted up his own ribs with the sudden movement. Nathaniel’s heart was beating in his ears and his chest burned imagining what the seniors wanted to do to Jean. No. No, this wasn’t happening. The taller one punched him in the face and the shorter grabbed him from behind. Nathaniel was much shorter than them both but he was fast. He used that to his advantage to get back at them but it wasn’t enough. They grunted through the pain and before Nathaniel knew it he was face down on the ground himself.

“Alright, kid. You earned this, too. Think Riko doesn’t know what’s up?”

Nathaniel heard Jean moan miserably. He was feverish and worse off than Nathaniel had expected. So they came in while he wasn’t even able to defend himself, the cowards. Nathaniel felt sick but he didn’t have as much room to worry for Jean when his own pants were being dragged down his hips. He was fighting to shove the others off of him, yelling and cursing at them so that the older Raven had to use his entire body to keep Nathaniel down on the ground.

“Go on, scream. No one’s gonna help you. And you know what? Riko would stand here and laugh, and then punish you for fighting this.”

“That so?”

That wasn’t Nathaniel’s voice, but he knew it instantly. Nathaniel grit his teeth. Andrew was the last person he wanted to see right now and if he’d had the air he would have used it to tell the midget to fuck right off.

Except the next moment, all the weight was lifted off of him and there were cries of pain above him. He turned and scrambled to stand as soon as he was free. When he turned around, Andrew had the Raven down on the ground, bleeding freely into the black carpet, and the other on top of Jean was now writhing in Andrew’s grip. The Raven was turning blue and no fists in Andrew’s face or nails scratched down his cheeks would release him.

Jean was finally awake and staring at all of them in hazy horror, his back against the wall.

Neil knew with sudden, awful certainty that Andrew was going to kill them both, right here. Nathaniel didn’t feel bad for them at all. He would have given anything for an excuse to force Andrew out of the Nest, but given the circumstance…

“Andrew,” Nathaniel rasped. Andrew didn’t let go, but he wasn’t raining any more savage blows on the upperclassmen, either. He continued in German. Who knew how this conversation would play out? “Andrew, don’t kill them.”

“You want to save them?”

Andrew’s voice was surprisingly calm considering he was in the middle of a fight, like this whole thing was unsurprising and didn’t even scratch the surface for him. Nathaniel had known killers and torturers who got off on making people squirm and bleed and scream, but Andrew didn’t look like he was enjoying this.

“No,” Nathaniel spat. “I couldn’t care less if they died. But if you kill them, the master will have you killed, too, or sent back to prison. You have to know that.”

“They don’t deserve to live,” Andrew growled.

“You’re right.” Nathaniel was shocked that Andrew had come to their rescue, but Nathaniel focused on the task at hand. He had no idea why Andrew would come in here and do this for them, much less risk death or prison again. He had to figure it out right now, but he couldn’t think fast enough. He searched his brain. The only reason Nathaniel had thought that Andrew was here was to force Nathaniel out. He didn’t see any reason why he was wrong, but it was all he had. “But don’t you have a job to do?”

He saw Andrew tense. Considering. “It’s not worth this.”

“Are you sure about that?” Nathaniel pressed. “If you’re sent to prison, this will happen there, too. And if you die, this will keep happening. No one’s going to save Jean next time.” Nathaniel took a breath. Andrew was on a high wire, choosing to fall over or keep going. He had to give Andrew a really good reason not to fall off. Not yet.

“We will make them pay. I promise.”

Those words caught Andrew visibly. Andrew gave the slightest turn to Nathaniel.

“Who says a promise is worth anything from a liar and a coward?”

“I do. I’m not lying now. They will suffer.”

It wasn’t enough. He needed to know now. One of them was unconscious and the other was close. They were going to die and who knew what would happen then? Nathaniel may not like that this was his life now but something in him couldn’t allow this to happen. It wasn’t right, even in Nathaniel’s gray world of moral void.

“Please.”

Andrew’s grip tightened and for a moment, Nathaniel was sure he’d lost him.

“I hate that fucking word. Don’t use it.”

“Okay. You got it.”

A few infinite seconds thick as brick, and Andrew dropped the Raven at his feet.

“Thank you,” Nathaniel said.

Andrew paused out the door in front of Nathaniel and gave him a hard stare. It should have been chilling to see Andrew’s impassive face in the midst of this violence and horror, but Nathaniel had been used to violence all his life. He was as unimpressed by it as Andrew, and for the first time since his mom died, that violence was used to shield him.

“A promise.”

Nathaniel nodded, unwilling to look away from Andrew for even a split second. Then he was gone, and he and Jean were alone with the half-dead Ravens.

Jean was looking at him with horror and raw question. In French he rasped, like a nail against brick, “What did you tell him?”

“I asked him to stop. He doesn’t deserve to die for protecting us.”

Jean looked from Nathaniel to the bleeding Ravens and back again.

“Is there any chance you misread him?” Nathaniel asked, even though he knew Andrew wasn’t doing this purely out of goodwill.

“He is a murderer. No matter the intention, that doesn’t change facts. Do you really think Andrew goes by regular ethics? You grew up with mobsters, too. You should know better.”

Nathaniel did, but it still didn’t make sense. He needed to know more, and now he knew far more about Jean than he had ever expected.

“Riko let them do this in the past.”

Jean’s stony silence shot the truth straight into his chest like a knife in the gut.

“I told you Riko doesn’t care about protection, so long as you are on the court. You wouldn’t listen. Idiot.”

Nathaniel felt ashamed. How he had misjudged Riko as anything but degenerate and sadistic, he didn’t know. He had never allowed himself to think of such things. Being a virgin, he hadn’t even thought of it, or what men could do to other men. That had never been a part of his world, and it made him sick.

“Come on, let’s get these guys out of our room.” He kicked one of them hard in the groin. “Perverts.”


	9. Promises In the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thanks to come_on_eileen and my sister LoveKaneki for their help and support!!
> 
> This one is basically all Andreil. :)

It had taken them a long time to clean up the bloody mess. If they had been at all conscious, Nathaniel would have forced the upperclassmen to clean up their blood themselves. Instead they were given first aid and carried to their rooms.

Jean didn’t say a word as they cleaned up, even though it cost them most of their sleep. Nathaniel was glad for the disinfectant to ground him because the smell of blood kept sending him back to the Pacific coast. He had to remind himself that, for once, it wasn’t his or someone he cared about. If the master wondered about the state of his two strikers, he didn’t talk about it. He’d created an environment for hazing to thrive, after all. If they weren’t irreparably damaged— which they weren’t, unfortunately— it wasn’t his problem. So said Jean. He had nothing else to say about Riko. He only said, “I warned you.”

Riko and Kevin weren’t due back at the Nest for one more day. Maybe that was a good thing. Since the night before, Nathaniel had played out elaborate murder fantasies with delicious detail and went through his day in a red haze. He could play nice until Riko took him to his room in Black Hall, then steal his knives and slice him to pieces. If he kept it up long enough, he could get Riko to admit what he’d done to Jean over the years. Or maybe he stole Riko’s heavy racquet on the court and bashed his head in right in front of all his teammates. Cleanest would be a gun with a silencer, or poison if he found some, but that wasn’t any fun to fantasize about. He wanted to be satisfied and feel Riko’s bones break under his hands. He didn’t think about the fact that not once had he overpowered Riko, or how unlikely it was that Jean or Kevin wouldn’t step in before he could do much damage.

In place of Riko, Nathaniel played rough and hard with the stand-in strikers. It was gratifying to feel the give of their bodies against his, to knock them down, but it didn’t take away his anger or the newer, vague sense of persistent unease. Everything felt different. It was the same anxiety he felt on the run, that of violent death always at his heels if he wasn’t quick enough to escape. For a short time that feeling had morphed into a specific drive to survive here, a relief he needed to hold on to and believe his life had finally changed.

He looked back on all the times Jean tried to warn him, or tell him he didn’t know anything. Something had been shattered, a border he hadn’t even known was there until it was crossed and spat on. His future felt different. For the first time, Nathaniel wasn’t certain that the Nest was worth it. It was Exy, and everything he’d ever wanted for the price of living under two sadistic men. Better than a violent death, he thought. His new, tentative future no longer stretched out before him. It was replaced with familiar dread. Maybe for the first time he felt really, truly closed in. He was beginning to feel as stupid as Jean said he was. After his first day, he knew Riko wasn’t to be trusted, knew Tetsuji wasn’t sympathetic. Yet he’d stayed. Who would say yes to this?

 

That night, Nathaniel woke up to someone shoving his shoulder. Instinctively, he swept his arm out for a knife or gun and caught Andrew’s shirt instead. Andrew had a finger to his lips. He shook his pack of cigarettes and waved for Nathaniel to follow.

Nathaniel checked for Jean. He was asleep.

“I’m not allowed outside,” he whispered, as if that meant anything to the man in front of him.

Andrew bent down and flicked his lighter in front of Nathaniel’s face. “Are we going to fight?”

Nathaniel still didn’t trust Andrew, but there was enough of an invitation in his words for Nathaniel to concede. He had promised Andrew twice now. _Talk to me when I come for you. We’ll make them pay._ He didn’t have the right to refuse.

He pushed up and reluctantly followed Andrew in silence through the dark halls, trying to ignore the prickle of fear under his skin. Andrew entered the code for one exit then led Nathaniel up a dark stairwell and shoved open the door at the top. The humidity washed over him all at once. It was a stark contrast to the dry heat in Arizona and air conditioned Nest. His long sleeve shirt stuck to his skin. For a moment, it was hard to breathe around the water-clogged air and familiar panic. Nathaniel wanted to glance at the stars but didn’t trust looking away from Andrew for a second. He kept a good few feet between himself and the midget and followed along the outside wall. It was too dark to see far, but he scoped the perimeter out of habit. Row of empty identical cars, high chain link fence surrounding the wide grounds, the closest buildings acres away. There had to be guards around somewhere, but there weren’t any in sight.

Andrew stopped past a corner far away from the door and planted himself so Nathaniel was between him and the wall. If Nathaniel wasn’t quick enough and tried to move in either direction, Andrew could reach out and stop him. Andrew lit a cigarette and breathed in. When he spoke next, it was in German. Maybe he thought someone might be listening, too.

“I’ve been waiting to talk to you, Neil Josten. Lack of witnesses is hard to come by in this place.”

Nathaniel’s heart hammered in his chest, his panic just barely locked under his skin. They weren’t close to the fence but he might be fast enough to make a break for it. If Andrew was waiting for him to run, Nathaniel would be heading right into his trap. There might be guards around he could holler for, but Nathaniel well knew how quickly a man could be silenced. He didn’t have any weapons, either. All this in a span of a second before he could decide. Andrew kept talking.

“You could run right now, but you won’t. You’re terrified. You said you aren’t afraid of me, so who are you afraid of?”

“Who said I’m running?”

If Andrew knew who he was, it felt pointless to stall. But what else could he do?

Andrew pointed his cigarette at Nathaniel’s face. “You did. I saw when they brought you in. Not many freshmen get dragged into Evermore unconscious. Funny thing is, the next time you showed up, you were grinning on the court. Interesting.”

Andrew took another drag, not once looking away from Nathaniel. There were the crickets singing in the dark, the smooth cement against his back, and the beat of his heart too loud in the silence. Andrew was only an arm’s length away. Nathaniel tasted the smoke that blew his way and tried to breathe.

“You know, it’s telling when a loud mouth shuts up.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“The feeling is mutual. You are a shifty eyed coward. You’ve had some time to think about it but remember I gave time on credit.”

Andrew reached out for Nathaniel’s neck, Andrew’s thumb against his pulse. He thought about pushing him off or telling him to fuck off, until he considered the last time he went head to head with the midget. He didn’t want to get injured and ruin his chances of escape. Andrew’s cigarette was still lit, and Nathaniel was aware of the scorching end at his fingertips.

“Truth or death, now. Start talking.”

Nathaniel had no room to move back now. Andrew wanted the truth but Nathaniel had been lying since he could talk. If he was wrong about Andrew and Nathaniel told the truth about their families, it would be his head, so he gave him a half truth.

Nathaniel said, “I want to know why you’re interested in pushing me out.”

His pulse beat fast under Andrew’s warm touch, a staccato rhythm that belied his need to push Andrew away and make for the street. Freedom was so close. Old instincts screamed at him to move and keep moving, but he'd made a choice. He pushed the claustrophobia down. Even if he tried, Andrew’s grip would hold him in place until he talked.

“Why would you think I want that?” Andrew asked, as if he hadn't been making every effort.

“You’re the only one that hates people falling in line behind Riko.”

“You don’t?”

Of course he didn’t, but that wasn’t the point. “He’s captain.”

“He’s a piece of shit.” Andrew took a long drag and flicked the still burning butt away. “You want to know what I think? I think it’s not just Riko you’re afraid of. I bet you think that asshole is the lesser evil.”

Nathaniel’s pulse broke into a run all on its own and Andrew’s thumb beat along to the new rhythm.

“You would know.”

“Would I? What do I know?”

His veins cried run, run, run, but Nathaniel was stuck in place. He smelled salt water and blood, saw the fear in his mother’s eyes that she was leaving him on his own, how afraid she was to die. His fingernails scratched at the cool, smooth cement behind him, searching for something to hold onto. His voice was raw and strained with the effort to hold back hysteria. “Don’t push me out. I’m not going.”

Andrew wagged a finger in his face.

“See? That’s what I’m saying. Either you’re an impressive masochist or you’re hiding. Which one is it, Neil?”

“I’m not going.” His voice shook. He was practically begging and he hated it. He didn’t say please but it was in his desperation, how the only thing keeping him still was Andrew.

“If you’re not a masochist, why do you love your leash so much?”

Fuck it. The panic felt like it was spearing through his chest. He could barely breathe.

“I’m sick of this. Either let me go or force me out. I’m not falling for it.”

“If only you had the same spirit with Riko.”

Nathaniel pushed against Andrew but for his effort he was held against the wall without Andrew missing a beat. Andrew’s hold was too heavy, too strong. He was going to be sick.

“I have an idea. Let’s say I do what you’re afraid I’m going to do. Would you prefer I kill you or shove you towards the fence?”

Run, run, run. “It’s the same thing.”

“You don’t say.”

Andrew gripped Nathaniel hard and moved as if to propel him towards the fence, so Nathaniel grabbed Andrew’s arm and shoved with all his strength. The best he got was panting against the wall under Andrew’s hand.

“Don’t. Don’t do this,” he gasped. His voice didn’t sound like his own. It sounded like the person he became in that room with Riko and he hated himself for it.

“Curious.”

He was trembling, his bones half out of his skin. Andrew held him against the wall and watched him hold himself together by a thread with his dead stare. If Andrew let go, he would fall for sure.

Nathaniel wanted to shove Andrew aside, scale the fence, and make for the horizon. He’d be dead by the end of the week, if he was that lucky. There was nowhere to run or hide under Andrew’s stare. He couldn’t be honest with Andrew but he wanted to say it aloud just to break this feeling. The weight of the truth, hidden in plain sight, was breaking him apart.

“What are you running from, Josten?” Andrew finally asked.

Nathaniel shoved Andrew’s hand away from him and this time, Andrew let go.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I say it does. Humor me.”

Something was off. His father’s people had never toyed with him for this long. Once they knew who he was for sure, they took out their blades and aimed for arteries.

There was no reason to trust Andrew. Nathaniel’s secret should never have been shared but Andrew was giving him little choice. In his ears were his mother’s last words, begging him to repeat his promises to survive. He could smell blood and salt water but he focused on the here and now, on Andrew’s blank hazel eyes staring him down. He clawed the words out before he lost his nerve.

“My father.”

Andrew nodded. “You think he sent me. Your scars, your father’s doing.”

“Yes.”

“Interesting theory. You’re very paranoid.”

Nathaniel scoffed at that. “Prove me wrong.” He wanted to be wrong.

“You can’t prove paranoid theories wrong, idiot. That’s why they’re paranoid theories.” Andrew took his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one more.

It occurred to Nathaniel that if he really wanted to avoid witnesses, Andrew wouldn’t be smoking. Which meant he either didn’t care much about them, or was too inexperienced to realize the smoke would give him away. Both options helped Andrew’s case.

Had Nathaniel really gone off the deep end so quickly? It was possible but that was a disturbing thought. And if Andrew wasn't working for his father, why did he care? Aloud, he said, “Then why are you here if you hate Exy so much?”

Andrew blew smoke in his face. “Don’t you already know all about that after reading my file?”

A shiver crept up his spine. “Were you watching me then, too?”

“Which makes you feel better?”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“We are talking about you right now.”

All he wanted to do was talk? Nathaniel wanted an answer to a different question, but he would ask later. “Answer for an answer?”

“You first,” Andrew said.

Of course. Nathaniel took a deep breath of secondhand smoke, willing it to calm him down. He didn’t feel half out of his skin anymore, but he was far from relaxed.

“What do you want to know?”

Andrew waited a beat to take a long drag, made sure he had Nathaniel’s full attention before asking, “I want to know why people stay in a cage. Why do you do this to yourself, knowing it will destroy you?”

He wasn’t prepared to hear that. Everything stalled as the rest of him caught up with that idea. He had thought as much about Jean, about Kevin, until he understood. He kept reminding himself that he had chosen this, but it was getting harder to stand by as the summer wore on. It didn’t feel fair for Andrew to ask that. How could he ever understand what Nathaniel had been through, what he was being given in exchange for protection? How could Andrew ever understand what Exy meant to him?

“Haven’t you made the same choice? You probably could have been cleared of your charges if you’d just been honest. And then you came here at Kevin’s request. You aren’t so different.” That was only a theory of his at this point, but he was willing to bet he was right.

“Hm.” Andrew tapped his finger against his lips and threw away his cigarette butt. “Loudmouth.”

Bingo. He would settle for Andrew giving him a better explanation later, but right now he was getting pissed off at Andrew’s judgment. He reached for Andrew’s cigarettes and, surprisingly, Andrew let him light one of his own. He leaned his head back against the wall and breathed in, the cigarette huddled against his chest. Andrew looked down at it once in question but didn’t say anything.

“I wasn’t given much of a choice,” Nathaniel told him. “It was either this or be hunted down and chopped into pieces. I’d say this is preferable.”

Before he could stop him, Andrew grabbed Nathaniel’s free hand and pulled back his shirtsleeve. Nathaniel’s wrists were red and scarred and scabbed over. “Who says that won’t happen to you here? You really think Riko will leave you alone?”

Nathaniel yanked his wrist out of Andrew’s grip and tucked it under his other arm, then flicked a clump of ash in Andrew’s direction. These marks were nothing compared to what his father had given him. Andrew must have seen his old scars by now if he’d noticed the new ones. “Riko is a psychotic asshole, not a murderer. I can handle him.”

“Is that what you think?”

He wondered why Andrew thought he knew Riko so well but with having almost been sent to prison for murder, maybe Andrew was able to read others in that regard. The thought was chilling.

“Riko has no reason to kill me.”

“But everything else is fine.”

Who the hell was this guy to judge him for this? He almost said as much but he focused on the matter at hand. “He’s building the Perfect Court. Why publically bring me into it just to dispose of me?”

Andrew gave him a cool, appraising glance. “You must think you are very valuable to Riko. You really think his plan will even come to fruition?”

Riko was the best striker in the game. He had a relentless legend of a coach, the best college team behind him, second best striker at his side, and as much money as he would ever need. Everything was lined up in his favor. “How could it not?”

Andrew rarely changed his expression from boredom or apathy, but after a month of watching him, Nathaniel could tell the subtle changes that gave away what he wasn’t saying. The look in his eyes now was reminiscent to Jean’s when he was thinking _Oh. You are blind after all._

Aloud, Andrew said, “Hm. Believe what you want. Keep licking Riko’s boots, if that’s what you want, too.”

For that, he wanted to punch Andrew in the face. “Oh, fuck off.”

Andrew took a step closer so that they were almost touching and stared him down. Nathaniel held his cigarette closer.

He spoke quietly, seriously, like this was a secret between the two of them. “You don’t seem to be listening to me. You’ve seen Jean. You want that? Is Exy worth that?”

“Why do you care?” It came out harsher than he intended. He meant it honestly. Why had Andrew stepped in the other night? No one else did. No one had ever tried to save someone in his world— except his mom. Why was Andrew asking now?

“You’re happy living in a cage? Look at me.” Andrew pressed forward again until the world became his hazel eyes, pupils wide in the dark. “Is Exy worth your freedom?”

Nathaniel swallowed hard around the knot in his throat. He needed this, would die without it. Admitting otherwise felt like acknowledging an essential crack in his foundation. He kept coming back to the other night. If Riko did that to Jean, what else would happen to Nathaniel? In the Nest was Riko and everything Nathaniel hated about the worst that people could be, but there was also Exy and University and protection from his father. Out there was death and his father’s blades waiting to cut him open and sink him in the harbor.

“I am not ready to give up. I’m not ready to risk my life unless I have to.”

“When you are ready to leave, tell me.”

His world shifted.

“I can’t leave,” he said incredulously. He must have heard Andrew wrong. There was no way.

“You won’t because you’re afraid of your father, yes? People are only human, you know.”

Nathaniel stared, tried to imagine five foot Andrew taking down 6’3” Nathan Wesninski. Failed. “You can’t take on my father. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do. Kevin told me all about it.”

Kevin did _what?_

“Gangsters. Scary.”

Nathaniel jerked so hard his head hit the cement. “Yes. Scary. Are you suicidal?”

Andrew took a step back, taking a cursory glance around. “You might be if you think you’re safe here.”

Nathaniel couldn’t believe this. “You have a death wish.”

Andrew gestured between the two of them. “See, that’s the difference between you and me. Only one of us knows that death is unavoidable.”

He was wrong, but he didn’t feel like spilling any more of his guts tonight. His cigarette had gone out so he flicked it away and turned back to Andrew.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“How kind.”

“It’s not that. I’m… I’m not that good of a person. You can’t stand against this family.”

“Refer back to the unavoidable death part. It’s much more interesting than hiding in a cage, don’t you agree?”

The absolutely _gall_ this man had. Andrew should have been bluffing, but as a connoisseur of lies, Nathaniel could tell that he was one hundred percent serious. It took him a moment to fully process the thought. “You would help me leave?”

“Why would I leave someone with Riko when I could steal them away from him?”

Nathaniel stared. “They’ll kill you.”

Andrew shrugged, blank and apathetic as always.

The world tilted all over again, realigned to fit a man like Andrew into Nathaniel’s understanding of the universe. Never in his life had Nathaniel met a person so apathetic to his own existence. After spending years trying to extend his own life span, it was almost offensive. And never had someone unrelated to Nathaniel been willing to shield him. Yet he hadn’t named a price for his protection. All their years on the run, they’d been sold out, or sacrificed others’ safety for their own. It didn’t make sense for Andrew to put himself in front of Nathaniel. People just didn’t do that. They fought for themselves, or their family. They didn’t brave gangsters for strangers. They didn’t help a scared runaway. Andrew knew the truth about him, about his family, and he was offering help all the same. Nathaniel couldn’t look away.

It felt inadequate for all the things he needed to know, but it was the only question that really mattered. “Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

Andrew stepped forward and brushed at Nathaniel’s chest. He looked down. Ash fell down to his feet. Andrew didn’t give the space back, and Nathaniel found he didn’t care.

Andrew said, “You and Kevin, holding onto Exy for dear life when it will be the death of you.”

Nathaniel didn’t deny it. “I’m going to die eventually. I’d rather it not be so soon.”

“Everyone dies. It doesn’t mean you let someone put a leash on you.”

“Don’t act like you’re free of this, too. I don’t see you going anywhere.” He gestured to the fence. Whatever was between Andrew and Kevin, it had to be strong enough to keep Andrew here.

“I can act whenever I choose. I choose to wait. I am not afraid of Riko or his family.”

Nathaniel wouldn’t have believed anyone else, but looking at Andrew’s blank gaze and knowing his utter disregard for himself, Nathaniel did believe him. Andrew’s apathy had felt dangerous to the people around him, but Nathaniel saw now what freedom it afforded him. Without self preservation and the lines normal people would never cross, Andrew was able to stand ground in no man’s land.

“Believe me, or don’t. It’s your choice. If you run after I help you, I won’t stop you. But if you’re tired of running once you’re out, then don’t.”

Choice. Andrew mentioned that a lot. How had Andrew gotten to this point where he wasn’t consumed by fear like Nathaniel was? His entire life was fear. He could hardly breathe around it. Putting himself back on the chopping block felt impossible. And standing his ground after that? He could hardly fathom it.

“In return, you’re going to help me. When I need something, you are not going to say no.”

Maybe that should have felt like a catch, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt fair, for what Andrew was offering. It was dangerous to agree without knowing, but it was dangerous to turn down, too. “Don’t feel like sharing?”

“Hypocrite.” Andrew shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet. The time will come.”

Nathaniel thought about how Andrew had reacted to the word _promise._ How it had changed everything. He couldn’t accept this offer lightly. “And if I say no?”

Andrew’s dark gaze flickered just for a moment. “If you choose to die in a cage, there is no one who will save you.”

Nathaniel took a cursory look around the dark grounds, then finally up to the sky. There were less stars than in Arizona. He could just barely see the glint of moonlight on the chain link fence, the yellow and white lines of the road disappearing past the hill. It was maddening having freedom so close and not taking it. Just one month in the same building was making him stir crazy. For the foreseeable future, he couldn’t go beyond that fence unless the master chose otherwise.

The prospect of being both Riko and Andrew’s bitch was less than enticing. As desperate as he was for Exy, Nathaniel had been itching for an escape his whole time here. He wasn’t ready to give this up yet, not when he knew what leaving meant. All his time on the run he had hungered for this opportunity, this insane dream he had never imagined could be a reality _,_ and it was driving him crazy to live it. He wanted Exy more than almost anything but if Andrew was really going to help him leave, offer him a chance to live as himself, dying outside of a cage if he could no longer stand it here… how could he turn down that option? If he stayed, he stayed, but if he chose to escape he would need all the help he could get. He chose his words carefully.

“I’m not ready, but if I decide to leave, you’ll help?”

Andrew nodded, and Nathaniel could breathe for the first time since he came to the Nest.

“Alright. Agreed.” Then it occurred to him. Why he hadn’t seen it before, he didn’t know, but he understood all at once. The secret talks, the message from Jean to Andrew. “You offered the same to Kevin.”

“Kevin does not believe he needs anything but Riko and Exy,” he said. “But when he changes his mind, I’ll make sure he doesn’t change it back.”

He sounded so sure. What did Andrew know that Nathaniel didn’t? Did he have something up his sleeve, or was there something he was simply taking advantage of?

Andrew turned to quickly scan the grounds one last time. “Let’s go back inside before they send out a search party for their pet.”

Nathaniel was worried about that, too, but now that he could breathe he didn’t want to go back in just yet. He wanted to stay and talk, wanted to enjoy in the fresh air. He wanted to understand.

Andrew moved to leave and Nathaniel reached out to get his attention, but didn’t grab him. He didn’t know Andrew that well to touch him so casually.

“Wait. What about my answer? Why you’re here?”

“I do not have to give it now. Later.”

That meant there would be a next time. He still had so many questions. Why Andrew had helped them the other night, how Andrew could face down everything Nathaniel feared without hesitation. He wanted to know, but for now they were both stuck in the Nest with few places to escape each other. Nathaniel would get his answers eventually.

Andrew led the way and this time, Nathaniel didn’t hesitate to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed. See you next week. :D
> 
> Edit: I've had pnuemonia so... I'll post as soon as I've got my shit together again -_-


	10. Talks & Beatdowns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, I'm back. And to make up for lost time, I'm uploading four new chapters at once. Hope you like them!
> 
> Thanks again to come_on_eileen and my sister for their help!

The morning Riko and Kevin came back from their Baltimore trip, Nathaniel took one look at Riko and felt sick to his stomach. They were eating breakfast in one of the kitchens. His hunger was forgotten in a blood-boiling need to confront Riko.

Jean elbowed him in his side. Nathaniel was glaring openly but he didn’t care. What was he going to do?

Then Jean grabbed one of his fingers and yanked back at a dangerous angle. He finally tore his gaze away and set it on Jean.

“You wanna hurt him? Me, too, asshole,” Jean whispered in French. He was quietly serious, though his voice was scratched. He had to be damaging his vocal cords just by talking, even though he was starting to feel better. “Look at it this way. You make a move, we both get punished. You haven’t seen Riko get creative yet.”

That sent ice down Nathaniel’s spine. Jean had to be joking, but by the look in his eyes, Nathaniel knew he wasn’t.

Jean finally let go of his finger. Nathaniel glanced down at Jean’s playing hand. His smallest finger was still healing from Nathaniel’s first night here, but upon closer inspection most of his fingers on both hands were a little crooked. Nathaniel didn’t want to know how many times they’d been broken.

The next time he caught a glance of Riko, the captain was looking around the kitchen. He nudged Kevin and went to speak to one of the upperclassmen who’d attacked Nathaniel and Jean. Needles of panic dug into his stomach and he tried to watch out of the corner of his eye. Jean was watching, too, but didn’t say anything.

The upperclassmen shook his head and avoided Riko’s eye contact. It was then Nathaniel understood that the upperclassmen didn’t know who had attacked them and beaten them unconscious, just that it had happened. They’d probably been concussed.

 _Good_ , Nathaniel thought, but he didn’t think it would be enough to protect any of them. If Riko came down on Andrew for it, maybe it would have been better to let Andrew kill them anyway.

When Riko was finished talking to the upperclassmen, he went back to Kevin, who had been watching whitefaced. With Riko’s next glance to Andrew, Nathaniel thought Riko had a good idea of who was guilty.

Nathaniel twirled the dining knife in his hand. He had never liked blades, courtesy of his father. He’d used them, and those times made it into his nightmares. How it felt under his hands when the flesh came apart, what the inside looked like. His father’s people explaining how it would be different with a person, with a live being, how much easier it would be. That when it came out like a fountain it came from an artery. And they reminded him how much blood there would be. It would get all over your hands, for one. Some of his oldest memories are the wretched, inhuman sounds a person makes when they are being hacked apart.

He set the knife down.

He’d never wanted to be that way, delighting in the destruction of another person. But he did want to hear Riko scream, wanted to watch the life ebb out of him. Riko was the first person to summon that desire in him. Nathaniel hated that it was there to begin with, and especially how much he wanted to give in to it. Not because Riko didn’t deserve it, but because it reminded him too much of his father to obsess on it.

He also ignored the desire to watch Andrew for most of the day. He didn’t want to let on that anything had changed, but for most of his time here he’d been glaring daggers. An absence of that would also look weird, but he couldn’t help feeling like even looking at Andrew put a spotlight on the two of them. He had been so stupidly obvious about his suspicions. He promised himself he would be more careful. If he did ignore Andrew right now at least, it would make sense for him to be focusing on Riko.

Nathaniel spent the majority of practice trying his damndest to knock Riko over. No matter how many times he was plowed over himself, he was right back at it. He imagined putting his fist through Riko’s face and aimed his whole body instead.

But Jean was right. If he wanted to stay, he had to behave.

He quietly asked himself how long he could last. Just the sight of Riko sent white hot heat down to his fingertips.

Andrew had also continued catapulting balls up and down the court. Nathaniel was used to it now. He caught them easier, and sometimes used the momentum to pass it right back to Andrew and all the way up the court. He liked that better than getting tripped over and over and that way, he fought Riko and Kevin less for the ball.

Jean began to pull Nathaniel off the court, but Riko dismissed the freshmen in charge of cleaning up.

“Neil,” Riko called.

Nathaniel froze. He fought to pass off his expression as exhausted but half hoped Riko would see the challenge behind it. He stopped just out of range of Riko, Jean by his side.

Riko did the last thing Nathaniel expected of him. He offered his racquet to Nathaniel.

He was so surprised for a moment that he forgot how much he wanted to slam it into Riko’s skull. Was he stupid? Why would he give Nathaniel a heavy?

“We’re switching you,” Riko said by way of explanation. “Try mine out. We should be the same size.”

Nathaniel gripped Riko’s black and red racquet in his hands until it squeaked under his grip, and passed his own to Jean. He took a breath.

“Something wrong?” Riko asked.

“I didn’t expect it to happen so soon,” Nathaniel said as soon as he could breathe around the fire in his chest.

Riko took the bucket of balls Kevin handed him. “No point in putting it off. It will be better for the team if you don’t go through the adjustment phase during the season and embarrass us on the court.”

Riko turned around to line up the balls as he wanted them. Nathaniel watched, imagined how easy it would be to slam the racquet into the back of his head. Would the master kill him for killing Riko? Maybe. He would probably be sent right to his father.

Kevin stepped forward minutely, the lines of his face tense.

As Riko turned back around, he was smiling. So he’d known exactly what he was doing.

“Do you want to hurt me?” he asked in what could have been, but wasn’t, a pleasant tone.

“Yes,” Nathaniel ground out.

“Then do it.” Riko stepped well into range, put his hands behind his back. “Jean will be punished, of course. If you kill me, you’ll be sent to your father. He’s due out of prison, this year, isn’t he? I wonder if he’d use the cleaver or the axe? I imagine they are both awfully painful.” He had that awful smile on his face that made him look almost inhuman, like there was a terrible thing inside of him just begging to come out and play. It was a certain awful light in the eyes, like he was burning alive and was just waiting to drag someone else down with him. Riko reached out with one hand to cradle Nathaniel’s cheek and brushed his tattoo with his thumb.

Nathaniel wanted to. His muscles twitched with the control it took to hold back, but just the mention of his father was a knife in the gut. All the things he said were true.

“How very gallant of you, giving up the first future you’ve ever had for Jean’s indefensible honor.”

Riko’s hand was hot against his skin. It felt like prickles digging into the soft tissue. He felt something fall in his chest and adjusted the grip on Riko’s racquet, letting it loose at his side.

“Good boy.” Riko dropped his hand and stepped back.

Only to put his fist through Nathaniel’s face.

Nathaniel stumbled back before he could catch himself, and Riko was on him with heavy, hard hitting jabs. On instinct Nathaniel hit back, pounding into him blow for blow. It felt good to let it out, even though his body was screaming in pain. He grabbed and layed into Riko as badly as he wanted. But Riko was stronger, and a far better fighter, and with a few really good hits from Riko, Nathaniel was on his back, trying to figure out which way was up.

“Stand,” Riko said from far away.

Nathaniel grabbed at that voice. He wanted badly to silence it forever, so he got up numbly. Riko put the racquet back in his hand, his expression smug and bored. He was saying, _you can’t win against me, even if you tried._

Nathaniel swallowed blood as Riko stepped back.

“If you really want to hurt me, try and catch up. Not that you’ll ever make it. It’ll be entertaining watching you try, though. Now go through the first drill again. Get used to the weight.”

Nathaniel listened to Riko’s orders but heard them through a tunnel, understanding on the surface but another part of him was separate. He tried to ground himself in the new weight in his hands, take pleasure in the rebound and small booms echoing off the court walls. But it felt tainted, and for the first time he walked off the court entirely unsatisfied and relieved to go. As Riko and Kevin stepped out, Kevin gave Nathaniel’s back a hard pat. Nathaniel didn’t want Kevin’s approval. He felt like a coward.

Nathaniel and Jean cleaned up the court with aching bodies. As they showered, the one thing Nathaniel thought about was finding Andrew. His chest felt tight, the familiar claustrophobia pinching him in. He needed to get outside and breathe, wanted to taste the smoke and fresh air again, needed to know how Andrew found the strength to be so brave in the face of total destruction. But how was he going to get away?

After they grabbed some food, they passed by the common room on the way to Red Hall. Much of the team was watching last season’s death match against USC. Andrew wasn’t in there.

Jean made himself comfortable on their bed. He hardly ever socialized with the rest of the team while Nathaniel had been here. He wondered if that was normal for him, or if between extra practices and getting sick, Jean simply hadn’t had the time. Was there anyone in the Nest that Jean considered an ally?

He read one of Jean’s French Exy magazines and waited until he fell asleep. Then he sneaked out and made his way to Andrew’s room down the hall.

He felt awkward knocking, especially after just letting himself in last time. A minute later, Andrew stood in the doorway looking as bored as always. He was in the normal Raven lounge clothes except that he had on his black armbands.

“No Frenchie?”

Nathaniel shook his head. Andrew retreated back into the room with a vague wave of his hand in invitation. He closed the door behind himself. Dylan wasn’t here, so he took a seat on his bed across from Andrew.

Andrew sat on his bed and pulled a bottle of whiskey up from between the wall and the bed frame.

“Is there a reason for your visit or could you just not stay away?”

Nathaniel bit his tongue. Somehow he had forgotten how aggravating Andrew could be.

“You still owe me an answer.”

“Hm.”

He offered the whiskey and Nathaniel shook his head. Andrew took the refusal without a word.

Nathaniel asked, “Can I ask a different question, and save the other for later?”

Andrew slowly tapped the side of the bottle, then waved his hand in acceptance.

Nathaniel leaned against wall. He wondered why Jean hadn’t mentioned anything to Andrew. Or maybe he had in secret, as he apparently had done several times on Kevin’s behalf.

“Why did you step in the other night?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Yes.” He thought bitterly about his own decision earlier, and wondered what he would do next time. He hoped he would do the right thing. Hoped there wouldn’t be a next time. He could feel his mother’s heavy hands on him even now, urging him to not be so stupid. He wasn’t sure which decision she would want from him. Andrew said nothing else, so Nathaniel pressed, “No one in here steps in on someone else’s behalf. There aren’t any heroes here.”

“That, we can agree on. But these Ravens are pissing me off. It was only a matter of time before one of them crossed a line in front of me.”

Nathaniel marvelled at that. He had never been one to try to help someone else. He could never afford to without sticking out his own neck, which defeated the purpose of so many years of running and sacrifice. But Andrew did it without hesitation. Did he have nothing to live for, or was he searching for something to die for? He imagined for a moment what it would feel like to live so bravely, to defend someone else. It felt very dangerous.

“Is that why you killed your foster brother? He crossed a line?” After seeing Andrew’s reaction to Jean’s attack, Nathaniel thought it obvious Andrew had been protecting Xander when he attacked Drake. He just couldn’t prove it yet.

Andrew shot him a dead look and tapped his finger to his mouth. _Shh._ “Do not speak of things you know nothing about.”

There was raucous laughing just outside the door, and Dylan burst into the room, one of the freshmen grinning in toe. They stalled in the doorway at the sight of Nathaniel.

“Oh. Andrew. I didn’t know you had a guest,” Dylan said. His hand lingered low on the freshman’s hip.

Andrew stood up and had his cigarette pack in his hands in a second. “We were just leaving.” He jerked a finger at Nathaniel in an order to follow. Andrew led them out past the other Ravens and into the hallway, the liquor bottle still in hand. The freshman stared, gaping at Nathaniel and Andrew.

“You’re Neil Josten. And Andrew Doe.”

“Autographs later,” Andrew huffed as he shoved past.

“How did you do it, Neil?” the freshmen asked.

Nathaniel turned around, not understanding. The freshman pointed a finger at his face. Oh, of course. How could he forget?

“How did you get Riko’s attention?”

With more than a little bitterness, he said honestly, “It was Kevin.”

“But just a year ago you were a newbie on the court. How are you so good now that Riko’s added you to his Perfect Court?”

If the kid hadn’t said it with such awe, it would have been rude. Dylan was waiting impatiently in the doorway, his mood clearly deflated by the fanaticism.

Nathaniel shrugged, glanced further up the hallway at the retreating Andrew, and decided on the truth. “You wouldn’t believe my luck.”

He could feel the freshmen’s stare all the way down the hallway until Dylan slammed the door after them. Andrew hadn’t slowed down for the chit chat so Nathaniel jogged to catch up just as Andrew was opening the door.

Andrew had two cigarettes lit before they’d even gotten outside. Nathaniel took his as offered and cradled it to his chest. The sun was just setting and the world was painted with a warm glow. It was also uncomfortably hot and sticky and his body was immediately soaked in sweat.

He stopped as Andrew picked a spot around the corner as before. Maybe it was a blind spot for cameras, or it was just far enough out of the way not to be seen by people coming and going. Nathaniel leaned against the cool cement and breathed in. Then Andrew took his turn.

“Where did your bruises come from?”

Nathaniel touched his aching face. “Fist fight.”

“Hm.”

Andrew didn’t say anything else for a minute, so Nathaniel decided to try his luck. “So why bother? Is this really better than prison after all?”

“They don’t have alcohol in prison,” Andrew said, lazily wagging the bottle of whiskey.

“That can’t be the only reason.” But he’d been thinking about this his whole time here and he hadn’t come up with an answer. If Andrew didn’t care about Exy, he shouldn’t be here. “Jean said you refused to play when you showed up. They had to force you.”

“Something like that.”

“Then what was it like?”

Andrew shrugged. “They discovered I liked hitting them better than getting hit.”

Then Nathaniel remembered his first time on the court, how Kevin had been so angry he had to hold himself back from hitting Andrew.

“You said you made a deal with Kevin if he wanted to leave. But you also said he doesn’t think he needs to leave. Why would he accept a deal if he doesn’t think it’s necessary?”

Andrew took another deep swig. “I forced him to.”

That was interesting. “How?”

Andrew watched the light glint off of the orange-brown liquid from inside the bottle as it swayed in his hand. “I told him I wasn’t going to try when he was holding himself back. I also said I wouldn’t have to try as hard with Riko, and would willingly show him, and all he had to do was give me incentive not to prove it.”

That was interesting, too. “Kevin would never accept someone holding himself back.”

“He would if it’s the only option. That must sting, considering his high hopes for me.”

Andrew said it glibly, but Nathaniel remembered Kevin quietly arguing with Riko about Andrew’s potential.

“What did he promise you?” Nathaniel asked. He knew after listening to Andrew’s reaction that Kevin must have promised Andrew something to leave such a bad reaction. He was learning that words with Andrew were never forgotten or passed over. Nathaniel wondered if Andrew was willing to forgive Kevin’s complicit silence in the Nest.

Andrew scoffed. “He said I would be the best goalkeeper in the game, if I would just try.”

“You think he’s wrong?”

“I think it doesn’t matter enough to try. It’s just a stupid game.”

Nathaniel definitely disagreed, but he had no ground to stand on when he was clearly risking more than a normal person would for the game. Then he thought back to what little of their conversation he overheard that first day. If Andrew realized upon his arrival at Evermore that Kevin had promised something he can’t fulfill, it would make sense for Andrew to try everything to prove him wrong. That would be another reason Andrew would want to leave so badly. It seemed spiteful and childish, but it did make sense.

“You said Riko would take this from him. You don’t really think Riko would hurt Kevin? Riko’s an asshole, but Kevin’s his brother. I’ve never seen him hurt him like--” He stopped himself before he could give himself away. Andrew definitely knew pieces of it, but he didn’t want to talk about that with Andrew. Not right now, not knowing how he would react. “Like he doesn’t matter.”

“Of course Kevin matters. That’s why Riko wants him at his side. Just so long as he doesn’t step out of line.”

“He’s holding himself back.” As soon as the words left Nathaniel, he knew it was true, and he felt it like a stone sinking down to a watery grave.

“Took you that long, did it?” Andrew said.

“If Riko realizes Kevin is better than him…”

“He will. Kevin will only be able to hold himself back for so long before it kills him. One of them has to break first.”

It felt impossible. It was a staple of Nathaniel’s existence in the Exy world that Riko and Kevin were a team. It felt wrong to imagine otherwise.

“That’s what you want my help with, isn’t it? Getting Kevin to stop holding back so he’ll be forced to leave.”

“Bingo.”

“But it isn’t going to work. Kevin won’t leave. Riko would kill him.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Nathaniel had nothing else to say about such a crazy idea. He wished they hadn’t been interrupted earlier, but the duo brought something else to mind that he’d all but forgotten about. Jean had said the Ravens all had sex with each other in the Nest. He didn’t know why it even mattered to them. It certainly didn’t matter to him.

“Do you think that freshman is gay?” He asked before he realized he had used up a turn.

Andrew stared at him for a long minute before answering. “Does it matter?”

Nathaniel shook his head. It wasn’t something he would normally care about at all, but… “No. It’s just that Jean said something about Ravens only having sex with other Ravens. I don’t understand why they would do that if they aren’t attracted to someone.”

Andrew took so long to answer him that Nathaniel thought Andrew had dismissed the question entirely. He lit another cigarette before speaking.

“When they are stuck in a place with few entertainments, people take what they can get.”

“What about you? You’re stuck in this place for now. Does it bother you?” He’d never seen Andrew express interest in anyone or anything, and neither had he ever met someone who presented such absence of want. There had to be give somewhere. It wasn’t any of his business, but he was fixated on figuring Andrew out. He decided it was the Nest getting to him and pushed it from his mind.

Andrew took another long drag. “No.”

It took him a minute, but Nathaniel finally noticed what felt off to him.

“There are never any guards out here,” Nathaniel noted. He thought that was very strange. “A place like this always has high security.”

“It does,” Andrew said. “But a lot of them are on smoke break right now. And they don’t want to talk to me.”

“What did you do, pick a fight with them?”

Andrew shrugged. “Something like that. They aren’t allowed to hit the students unless they’re trying to leave without permission.”

Had Andrew known what kind of men the guards likely were? Or did he really not care? “And you call me a loudmouth.”

Andrew took that one in silence. He chucked the glowing cigarette butt and lit a third.

“And you, Neil? Does it bother you that you’ll be tied to Riko for the rest of your life instead of having a wife and family?”

“No.” He was going to leave it at that to be petty and copy Andrew’s answer, but the truth sneaked like water through a crack. “It’s never really been an option. That part hasn’t changed.”

“Why? Were your parents that strict?”

Nathaniel’s cigarette had gone out, so he stole Andrew’s and inhaled the poisoned air slowly, trying to hide how shaky he felt thinking about both his parents.

“No. Yeah. Kind of. My mom always said girls were a security risk. You couldn’t trust them. It was better to just not deal with them.” He rubbed the back of his head where he could still feel her heavy hands on him after each time he sneaked a look at a girl’s body.

“Hm. Well, that’s true. You can’t trust them.”

Nathaniel sent him a dirty look. “They’re no less trustworthy than anyone else. She was just worried I’d spill everything to a girl because I liked her. If I’d shown interest in a guy she would have told me the same thing.”

Andrew grabbed his cigarette from Nathaniel’s hand, stubbed it out, and sent the half smoked paper flying. He turned to the door without checking behind him. “Whatever you say, runaway.”

Nathaniel followed Andrew. “I don’t know the combination to get inside.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Andrew said.

“What were you gonna do, just leave me out here?”

Andrew punched in the code to the door and swung it open for him.

“Maybe. But here you are.”

Nathaniel went in first and Andrew let it slam behind him.

“Why are you mad?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re a bad liar. I would know.”

Andrew punched in the code for the second door at the bottom of the black stairwell.

“Whatever, Josten. Get out of my face.”

Andrew shoved passed him and went down a hallway that as far as Nathaniel knew, lead to janitorial closets. He tried to shrug it off and headed to Red Hall.

Whatever had made Andrew mad wasn’t his concern. He repeated that when Andrew’s bad attitude followed them onto the court later, but he couldn’t help wondering if it was something he’d said to piss Andrew off. It shouldn’t matter that their little smoke break had been cut short. They weren’t even friends. They just had a deal between them. It shouldn’t matter to him, but it did. He didn’t know why this was and it bothered him not to know, so he allowed the game to consume him with heavy breaths and aching muscles, and tried to forget about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 If you read this far it picks up fast in the next few chapters. Ha!


	11. Lovers, Succubi or Otherwise

“How you doin’, cutie?”

Nathaniel and Jean were eating breakfast the next day with the whole team when the two girls came to their table, Carson and Jenkins. Carson sat next to him, followed by her striker partner, Jenkins. She slid in close to him, and the look in her eyes, the curve of her mouth, was more than a little predatory. 

He shoved her away unceremoniously. “Why?”

Instead of looking wounded, Carson’s eyes lit up with childish glee at his rejection. She tossed her blonde hair and grinned at Jenkins, who was watching them both with her elbow on the table. Nathaniel turned to Jean to see what he thought of this spectacle, but he was ignoring them all in favor of finishing his coffee.

“Oh, we’re curious. You’ve been here, what? Since May? And you hardly talk to anyone. Jean steals all of your time.”

At this, she slid a cool look at Jean, like he’d done her a wrong. Maybe he had, but Jean didn’t seem to care about her supposed grievance.

“You know how hard it’s been for him to catch up. He can’t afford a distraction.”

“Pity.” Carson leaned in close until her lips brushed his ear. “You know where to find me.”

Before he could shove her off again, she left the table with deep, throaty laughter, holding Jenkins by the hand. 

Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he heard something slam against one of the back tables. Andrew. He tapped a slow, agitated rhythm, metal against a porcelain plate as he watched the women leave.

“Uh. What was that about?” Nathaniel asked Jean in French. He had a bad feeling that maybe this was another of Riko’s tricks. He tried to remind himself not to get too paranoid after what had happened last time.

Jean shook his head. “They’re just devils. That’s all. They like to mess with the freshmen when they get bored of each other. Let’s go.”

Practice left him exhausted as always, but he was getting used to the way his body wanted to lay down and die all the time. He pushed through it. He held onto the feeling from before, where being on the court made him feel alive, like it was the only thing to live for. Lately the days were passing in a painful blur. He didn’t want to admit how he was caring less about the game. He thought he could enjoy himself if it weren’t for the master’s incessant criticisms and his own feeling of constant inadequacy. And Riko.

This time, Riko wanted his perfect court to practice together again. Nathaniel should have expected as much. He grabbed some water, then charged back onto the court for drills with his new heavy. He just wanted the day over with again, which was dangerous, because there really wasn’t anything to win at the end of it. Maybe he would feel different when they were actually playing to win. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel like an endless black blur day in and day out, marked only by fear of the next time Riko would think of something horrible to torment them with. He signed up for this, he told himself. He had agreed to this. He had to get through it, but there was a nagging feeling that something bad would happen before the start of the season. 

More and more he noticed Kevin holding himself back in practice, and he didn’t know how Riko couldn’t see it. Kevin would angle his body as if on instinct, and then purposefully change his position. It made pins of anxiety stab up and down Nathaniel’s body. Kevin was essentially screwed no matter what happened. It would be such a rush to see Kevin in his full glory and embarrass Riko at the same time, but it was one of the most frightening things he could imagine, too. Everything would be over, not just for Kevin, but for all of them, if Riko lost his status among them.

They all left the court sweaty and exhausted after an hour. Nathaniel was ready for food and a nap. Riko led the way into the locker rooms to undress. As soon as they’d stepped in the door, Nathaniel heard moans echoing off the walls, too high pitched to be male. But the girls had their own showers.

None of the others seemed alarmed. If he weren’t so certain of his own sanity, or maybe so desperate to hold onto it, he would have thought he was imagining it. By the time the boys had stripped down it was impossible to ignore. Either someone was watching porn or the girls were really enjoying each other. 

Nathaniel hesitated before following Riko and the others into the showers.

“It sounds like someone’s in there,” he said.

Riko snorted. “Yeah, it does.” 

Riko disappeared, and with him Kevin. Jean waited impatiently for Nathaniel to catch up. It wasn’t that Nathaniel was shy. He just didn’t care for the intimate details of others’ sex lives, and he definitely didn’t care to watch them in action.

“They’re just girls, Nathaniel. Come on,” Jean said. So he followed.

The girls were in the middle of one shower wall, the blonde dealer pressed up against the tile with one toned leg crooked over Jenkins’ shoulder. They were naked, and wet, and Jenkins’ head was between the dealer’s thighs. Neither seemed to notice or care that they now had an audience.

Nathaniel forced his stare away from the girls and kept it on the far wall so that his back was turned to them. He spared a glance to see what the others thought. Jean and Kevin were showering as normal. Only Riko was turned their way to appreciate the view. He caught Nathaniel watching and grinned. Nathaniel turned away, tuned out everything but the task at hand, and ordered his body not to react. He’d never seen a scene like this, never watched porn or been interested in it. He counted in all the languages he knew and kept the water colder than normal to distract himself.

Halfway through his shower the girls had thankfully stopped and disappeared by the time Nathaniel had finished and dressed. The girls were waiting out in the locker room, dressed this time in Raven black pants and flowy shirts. 

“Waiting for us?” Riko asked. 

The girls smiled. Carson wrapped herself around Riko while Jenkins put up her hair. 

“Got any plans?” Carson asked. 

“Mmhm,” Riko answered, eyes on the dealer pressing herself against him. “Kevin?”

“Coming.”  
They disappeared down the hallway and Nathaniel finally felt like he could breathe again. Jean allowed them a good distance, stopping to grab some sandwiches in the kitchen before heading back to their room.

“You didn’t see anything,” Jean told him in French.

“Uh. Why does it matter? You said everyone here is involved anyway.” Jean had said that, but Nathaniel had never thought it would be in public. 

Jean shook his head. He pushed their door open and closed it behind them, then collapsed onto his bed. Nathaniel did the same but leaned against the wall to face Jean and curled one leg up to his chest. He couldn’t get the girls out of his mind. The toned thighs, the shaking muscles, the breathy moans, the physicality that begged his body to react. He pinched himself to calm down.

“Riko and Kevin are different,” Jean explained, flipping open a book. “The master doesn’t allow anything to distract them from their game. Fellow Ravens are the only acceptable option, but it’s a dangerous line.

Nathaniel didn’t know what to say to that. He shouldn’t have been surprised any more at the level of control the master exerted over his team, but that seemed extreme. “I’ve noticed the girls watching both of them before. I didn’t think about why they’d never made a move.”

“They have. Kevin just isn’t interested.”

“Because he’s focused on the game?"

Jean slid him one of his looks before returning to his book. “You’re the only one who wants to fuck the court, Nathaniel.”

Whatever. “So he’s gay?” The thought didn’t bother him, but it was a little surprising. 

“No, idiot. He has a girlfriend.”

“Kevin has a  _ girlfriend _ ?” he asked in hushed French. “But… That’s impossible.” 

“Not publically,” Jean admitted. “Who knows if they’ll ever be public. I doubt she’ll want to wait that long.”

It didn’t take long for him to figure out who it could be. There were only so many options that Kevin Day could entertain as potential partners. “Thea Muldani,” he said in a hushed voice.

Jean gave a curt nod.

“Does Riko know?” 

“I wonder if you’ll ever stop asking stupid questions.”

He let that one slide. He wondered if Jean would ever stop thinking he was stupid. Reckless, yeah. But Nathaniel wasn’t stupid. At least, he didn’t used to be.

“But how is that possible if Riko doesn’t know? They’ve done everything together since they were kids.”

Jean shrugged, licked a finger, and flipped to the next page of his book. “And he’s had that long to figure it out.”

Nathaniel didn’t want to know what the master would do to Kevin if he ever found out about this. More than that, he didn’t know why Kevin would allow himself to be distracted by a girl. He had Exy and Court to look forward to. What more could he want?

It took him only a moment of imagining a future next to Riko before he took that back. Of course Kevin would want something just for himself. Everything else belonged to Riko, and Kevin second. Nathaniel had never been allowed to entertain ideas of romance, either. The idea was foreign and hard for him to comprehend. He saw couples together all the time while he was on the run, but his only experience with relationships in his day to day life was his father’s oppressive grip on his mother, and one chapped lipped, barely there kiss on the lips in Canada. Nathaniel dealt with his body’s desires in the same way he dealt with brushing his teeth. It was almost a non issue. He didn’t know what Kevin would want out of a relationship so badly that he would risk both Riko’s and the master’s wrath to keep it. It seemed a lot of trouble.

Nathaniel himself had never imagined a future where he was alive long enough to consider something for himself, or give someone the chance to trust them. 

“Do you ever…?” Nathaniel started to ask, but he wasn’t sure how to finish it. Want something else? Think about risking everything for someone? It felt like a delicate question after knowing his history, but he was too curious.

“No,” Jean said without feeling. “There is no point.”

That’s what he’d expect Kevin to say, but apparently Kevin thought otherwise.

“But if you could.”

“And if  _ you _ could?” Jean snapped.

“I wouldn’t.” It was the truth. Nathaniel would never trust someone enough to let them in.

He pulled an Exy magazine down from a pile on their dresser and lay on his side, away from Jean. But he couldn’t get the thought out of his head. What could possibly be worth that risk?

Second practice was brutal and grueling. At dinner, Nathaniel finally asked if Jean ever socialized with the rest of the team, but he only said he was too tired right now. He wondered whether he meant physically, or if it was the strain of living with Riko all these years. It made Nathaniel want to crawl in a hole too, wondering when Riko was going to get creative again. It always seemed to come out of nowhere. 

The four of them had talked all dinner along about the upcoming season. Everyone else had already left. Kevin was excited to play against USC again, and Riko was excited to beat them. Just before they were about to leave, Nathaniel mentioned which teams he wanted to play against first. Riko had seemed normal during the meal, but when Riko got up to leave he elbowed Nathaniel in the face. Nathaniel was about to have a million words for Riko but Jean wasn’t having it. They ended up brawling on the kitchen floor and both went back to their rooms with blood on their hands.

Nathaniel felt anxious, like how he always did when he didn’t get a run in for awhile. As soon as Jean was asleep, he went off down Red Hall without really knowing where he was going. He ended up at Andrew’s door, knocking before he could change his mind. 

Andrew called for him to come in. He was curled up on his bed with a bottle in his lap. Nathaniel closed the door, then leaned against the wall to watch. There was something off. He didn’t reach out to tease him or ask about his most recent Riko misadventures. There was also a knife he was twirling in his hand. Nathaniel had never seen it before, but it occurred to him that Andrew could easily hide it in the bands on his arms. One arm band was peeled back to reveal fresh bandages.

“Not today, junkie.” He said this like a dismissal, but it sounded more like “whatever.”

Nathaniel sat back on his heels against the wall and watched him in silence. Andrew’s hands were shaking. It was alarming for someone who was always so steady. Andrew was fiddling with the knife, flipping it open and closed methodically, running his finger along the blade as if checking the edge for damage. 

“You want me to leave?” Nathaniel asked.

Andrew shrugged. “It’s your fault if you end up getting cut.”

“I don’t think you’re going to cut me.”

“That’s bold.” Andrew flipped it open, closed, open.

“I don’t think you’d cut me unless I gave you a reason,” Nathaniel explained. Whoever Andrew was, the other Ravens were wrong. He’d never seen Andrew act violently without a reason. He aimed for the Ravens on the court because they had aimed at Andrew. He had been aiming at Nathaniel to test him and see if he really wanted to run after all. Unlike Riko, Nathaniel couldn’t think of a time where Andrew had acted purely out of malice. 

“You should be more afraid.” Flipped closed, flipped open. 

“Maybe.”

“Your nose is bleeding, junkie.”

Nathaniel wiped his hand across his nose, and it came away streaked with red. He wiped it off and used his shirt to clear the blood.

“So are your bandages.” He nodded to Andrew’s left arm, where the red was soaking through the white cloth.

Andrew cursed under his breath, dropped the knife and bottle and disappeared to a different area of the room. When he returned, the bandages were covered by his armbands again. Andrew leveled him with a hard stare as he took another swig of whiskey.

“You see too much.”

“Did you get in a fight, too?” Nathaniel asked, though he doubted it. Pretty much everyone was accounted for at dinner, even Andrew. Unless it had happened after.

“You could say that.”

“You did it yourself,” he said uneasily, knowing it to be true. “Why?”

Andrew dropped the bottle on the bed, crossed the room with quick, heavy footfalls, and knelt directly in front of Nathaniel. He heard rather than saw the  _ click _ of a knife opening, but didn’t dare look away from Andrew.

“Seen and not heard.” Andrew’s eyes were a little glazed from the whiskey. His breath held the bite of it, barely inches away.

“I don’t care,” Nathaniel said. “Except that I wish you wouldn’t hurt yourself. I don’t understand it.”

“Oh?” Andrew flicked Nathaniel’s nose where Riko had hit him, and pain splintered across his face. “Don’t hurt yourself, hm?”

“That’s different.”

“I don’t think so. If you left, it wouldn’t happen.” This sounded almost mocking, like Andrew was quoting from somewhere, but Nathaniel couldn’t place it. 

“Yeah, we talked about this.”

“We did, didn’t we?” Andrew nodded. “You know, you don’t look as lively out there as you did when you first came in, which is funny, because you’re better now. You’d think you’d be jumping for joy.”

Nathaniel stood up. Andrew rose with him, and tucked one arm against the wall so Nathaniel couldn’t leave. The knife disappeared somewhere. Maybe Andrew should make Nathaniel nervous, but he didn’t. Just being inches away from Riko, the hair on the back of his neck would stand up. But with Andrew now, his guard was down. It should be a bad thing, but it was such a relief to relax a little that he couldn’t bring himself to be disappointed at his survival instincts.

“Don’t hurt yourself again,” Nathaniel said.

Andrew feigned shock. “Oh. And why shouldn’t I?”

“You know what kind of place this is. They’re like sharks here.”

“Hm. I can handle them.”

“I don’t want you to have to. Why create more trouble for yourself?”

“Everyone survives differently. Isn’t that right, Neil?”

For all of a moment, Nathaniel nearly corrected him about his name. Andrew knew everything else about him that mattered, what did his name make a difference? He bit the inside of his lip to keep from speaking. It was as if he were standing on an edge and couldn’t help but dangle right off of it, a wordless question right out of his grasp. 

When Nathaniel said nothing, Andrew stepped back. “I’m sleepy. Get out.”

Nathaniel made to leave. “Where’s your roommate?” He knew he shouldn’t be leaving Jean so much. It was dangerous, and only a matter of time before word got back to Riko about Nathaniel’s frequent visits. If they hadn’t already.

“Probably fucking your number one fan. And here I thought you’d be spending the night with one of the girls.”

Nathaniel turned around at the door, his hand on the doorknob. “Why would I do that?”

“They were throwing themselves at you at breakfast. I know you aren’t that blind to miss it.”

Was this about their conversation from the other day? “I’m not interested.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You said you aren’t gay.”

“No. I don’t swing either way.”    

“Hm.” Andrew looked him up and down as if he could discern Nathaniel’s sexuality with a quick appraisal, but his gaze belied nothing. Nathaniel decided it was tentative acceptance. 

Andrew shut the door behind him, and then he was alone in the dark hallway. He hurried back to his room before Jean could discover his absence. He lay in the dark trying to sleep, but he was unable to get the image out of his mind, of Andrew and his bandages, that knife he had flicked open and closed. And the belated realization that at no point had Nathaniel made to defend himself from Andrew. A Wesninski who hated knives should have itched in the presence of one, but he hadn’t even flinched. On the run this kind of trust would have tasted like danger, but in the Nest, it felt like breathing room. He knew it was stupid. If he cared about his own survival he should stop talking to Andrew altogether, shouldn’t have made that deal. But he had, now that he’d come to that edge, he found he didn’t want to bring himself back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3


	12. Nathaniel

On Thursday, Riko and Kevin were going to leave for their weekend pro match and practice. Nathaniel was looking forward to a blissfully Riko free weekend, hoping Riko didn’t have anything up his sleeve like last time.

When Nathaniel and Jean returned to their room after practice, Nathaniel started at the unexpected presence in the room. He opened the door and there they were, both of the girls sitting on his bed, one of them casually leaning against the other with her blouse open. The soft valley where Carson’s breasts parted the fabric, her white flesh drawing his eye a moment before he could pull it up and away at the two mischievous, smiling faces.

“What are you doing in here?” Nathaniel demanded. He stopped Jean from closing the door completely, retreating back to the entrance to hold it open.

The blonde, the one with her shirt open, leaned forward to rest her chin on Jenkin’s shoulder. “We thought we’d come by.” She grinned in a way that could have been innocent, flirtatious, if Nathaniel didn’t sense Riko’s influence over every part of this. Jean sat tentatively on the bed, watching the girls with cool reserve.

“We don’t want you in here. Get out,” Nathaniel ordered.

Jenkins wasn’t saying anything, but her whole attitude did. She turned back to her friend with a small, private smile, a glimmer in her eye. Carson got up and moved languidly to press up against Nathaniel. Her hands closed around the muscles of his arms as her breasts pressed softly against his chest. There was a splattering of soft brown freckles across the bridge of her nose and he noticed for the first time that her eyes were a light, honey brown.

His breath hitched at the sensations and his fist closed around the doorknob so hard it creaked. He ignored the flush of heat coursing up his chest from his stomach and gripped her arms hard, shoving her out into the hallway.

“Out.”

She was nonplussed. Her brow furrowed softly in a mocking expression and she leaned against the door frame. “Ohh. But I wanted to spend time with you, baby.”

Another feminine body pressed against his back. Without hesitation, he reached around, grabbed her arms and shoved her hard against the wall. Jenkins finally broke her act, her face tearing into instant rage as her head banged against the black wall.

“What the fuck, Josten?” she yelled.

Then she rounded on him in a totally different way, right arm coming up against his cheekbone in a hook. He couldn’t block the blow but he hit her back square in the jaw, forcing her into the hallway. He shoved her into the blonde. They were both no longer pretending anything.

“I said out,” he said, his voice hard with anger.

Jenkins huffed and wrapped her arm around the blonde’s waist. “Asshole.”

“Bitch.”

They glared and he watched them leave down the hallway, holding back the bloodlust that now screamed in his chest and his veins. His cheeks were hot, his body boiling to a breaking point. Riko was responsible, he knew it. Maybe he hadn’t left yet, the bloodlust whispered. He could go to the source of the problem. All consequences were disappearing to the back of his mind. He wasn’t going to play this game. He didn’t care if it was boys or girls doing it. He wasn’t going to let this happen again.

He took one step toward the hallway. The door shut suddenly in front of him. Jean’s white face glared at him in the sudden darkness, the red of the light casting his face half into shadow. When he first knew Jean, he would have interpreted this expression as anger or regarding Nathaniel as an idiot. Now he recognized it as the kind of worry someone harbored watching a major collision about to happen, and unable to prevent it.

“You can’t go see Riko about this,” Jean said, careful and even.

Nathaniel gripped the doorknob. Jean’s hand hadn’t left the door.

“I’m not having those girls harassing me. I know he’s behind this.”

“And how do you think that conversation is going to go? Hm?”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on talking much, Jean.”

Jean pressed not with his hands but with his body until they were chest to chest, or rather, Nathaniel’s chest to his stomach with Jean’s face bearing down on him from above. Nathaniel tried to hold his ground, gripping the doorknob for support, but Jean shoved at his shoulder and knocked Nathaniel off balance. He stumbled backward into the room.

“What are you going to say to him?” Jean demanded. “Stop trying to convince these girls to have sex with me?”

“Maybe,” Nathaniel said, his voice rough and his breath short with anger. He knew when he got like this, he got into fights he couldn’t possibly win, but he couldn’t stop himself. His blood burned under his skin, coursing at a pace encouraging his need to confront someone head on and damn the consequences. He had no plan, and in the back of his head, he knew that there wasn’t any way he could win this, which was even more infuriating. He just wanted to _do_ something, like a trapped animal in a cage, bashing himself against the bars.

Nathaniel shoved back against Jean and was met with another bodily blow, forcing him back against the wall until his head bounced back just like Jenkin’s had. He didn’t want to fight Jean, not really, but…

“You aren’t keeping me in this room, Jean.”

Jean wasn’t touching him anymore, but he was blocking the door with his body, his back to the frame. He took a slow, shuddering breath and leveled Nathaniel with a hard expression.

“What do you think is going to be Riko’s next move?”

“How should I know? Get out of my way.”

Jean closed his eyes and raised them as if toward Heaven and cursed something in French too low for Nathaniel to hear.

“You need to think about this, Nathaniel. You didn’t know him before, but you should be getting to know him. Think about it.”

As soon as he let himself think, the potential prospects washed over him like a dunk of ice cold water, cooling his racing blood in a shocking moment. Riko wasn’t really fucking with him right now. He was playing around, like a cat with a mouse. He could have been here, made sure it happened, or sent someone else. He was being tested, over and over again. He hadn’t seen it in the showers, or at breakfast. But Riko was checking to see how he reacted to the girls, whether he was interested in them at all. It was too twisted for Nathaniel to fully get his mind around. He wasn’t sure he did want to understand, but it was important that he tried.

Jean continued. “The more you act like you care, the more he is going to press. The more fun he is going to have, and the more fucked you are.” He ran a hand through his black hair. “You are infuriating. I know you are stupidly willing to fuck yourself over instead of thinking for half a second, but you need to try.”

Nathaniel didn’t mention all the times that he _had_ held himself back, had bit his tongue and hung his head instead of barreling into Riko and driving his fists into him like he wanted. Jean was right, this time.

“This is fucked up, Jean.”

“And this is news to you, Butcher?”

Nathaniel pressed his head back into the wall and closed his eyes. Took a breath. Then another.

Jean said, “You chose to stay here. I tried to warn you. You need to keep deciding what you are willing to put up with, and then you need to decide how you are going to survive and live with that decision. It’s all about survival, Butcher. That’s all it is.”

That, Nathaniel could understand. His whole life had been about survival. Every single moment of his life on the run, he had been focused on survival. Then he met Jean’s eyes and held them.

“Do _you_ know what he is doing?” When Jean didn’t answer immediately, he asked again. “If you know something, you need to tell me. I thought you had my back in here. Or were trying to.”

“Trying to,” Jean whispered. “In case you didn’t notice, Riko doesn’t allow loyalty to anyone but him.”

“What do you know, Jean?”

Jean looked away for a moment, his expression hard and cold in the red light. “He hasn’t said anything to me. But I’m pretty sure he’s trying to figure out whether you’re gay or not.”

That took him by surprise. “What? Why?”

Jean sighed. “Think about it, Nathaniel. If you are straight, he can use the girls against you. He has something that he can use to manipulate you, tempt you, and break down your defenses.”

Yes, that was exactly what his mother had warned him about. Except this was a totally different situation than he was expecting. But Jean kept going.

“If you’re gay, he can use that against you in the same way. And either way…” Jean’s expression went flat, distant before he said the ugly words. “If he knows what you likes, he automatically knows what you don’t.”

A cold chill broke through his body. That was what he was afraid of. As soon as he knew what Riko was willing to do to Jean, he didn’t want to admit it, but he knew it could happen to him, too. He didn’t know what to say. He felt the walls closing in on him, his chest tight but his blood racing. He needed to move. He needed, he needed— something.

“Still want to be an exy star?” Jean asked bitterly.

“I need some air.”

“You aren’t allowed outside.”

“Are you going to tell on me?” he asked acidly.

Jean stared at him for a moment. “Are you leaving?”

“No,” he said, short and honest, but he felt guilty all the same. He wasn’t leaving right now.

“Because if you’re leaving, you need to tell me.”

“Why, so you can come with me?”

Jean shook his head. “No. So I can expect to take your punishment for you, and not expect you to come back.”

He looked at Jean, then, as if he were seeing him for the first time. How old had he been when he came to Evermore? Did he miss his parents, as Nathaniel missed his mom? Did he hope for things, wish for things, ever fantasize about a life outside of this? Jean always acted like he was a broken thing, never thinking of something outside of his cage, like a bird that had forgotten how to fly. Maybe it was so Nathaniel could believe that wouldn’t be his fate. Or maybe because he wanted to believe Jean didn’t fully belong to the Moriyamas even after all this time, or because in some sneaking fashion he had begun to honestly care about Jean. It hurt to think about how much pain he had gone through. He wanted to say that he was sorry, that Jean didn’t deserve any of this. But he couldn’t get the right words out.

“I just need some air.”

“Hmph. Get out of my room. You better not be lying to me, Nathaniel.” Jean retreated back to his bed and didn’t watch Nathaniel walk out the door.

 

Andrew wasn’t in his room this time. Dylan opened the door when he knocked. He looked down at Nathaniel without surprise.

“Andrew isn’t here,” he said without Nathaniel having to ask. “He’s out for a smoke.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Damn it. What was he supposed to do now? Why hadn’t he just asked Andrew to share the escape code? He knew it changed often and randomly, but Andrew always knew what it was.

He stepped back, but Dylan gestured for him to come closer. Nathaniel obliged, just by an inch. He didn’t have time for this.

“You know,” Dylan said, not quite a whisper. “I don’t think you should waste your time.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“I mean... Kid, I don’t think Andrew’s interested. In anyone.”

Nathaniel tried to understand, but was totally lost. “Interested?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t think he likes you back. I mean, I know he doesn’t like the girls, but I don’t think he’s too fond of guys, either. Nobody, really.”

Oh. “Uh, no, I’m not really—”

Dylan laughed, somehow managing to be half good natured, half rude. “Sure, kid. Well, good luck.”

Then he closed the door, leaving Nathaniel staring at the black painted wood. How had Dylan come to that conclusion? And why did everyone suddenly care about which way he swung? He shook his head, still panicky and itching for a run, and turned to head for the outside door. He could wait there. It sounded like a stupid plan. If Riko hadn’t left yet, he would come across Nathaniel and that would be bad. But there wasn’t anything else he could think of. He needed to breathe, to just pretend for a second that he didn’t feel like he was dying.

It was then he saw Andrew coming his way at a leisurely pace down the hallway, as blank and uninterested as usual. Nathaniel’s whole body relaxed a little at seeing Andrew. The lack of fear, the lack of pressure and expectation, the security of a last ditch escape route. And now he could go outside. Maybe. He hoped Andrew had been too far away to hear his and Dylan’s conversation.

“Hey,” Nathaniel said.

Andrew stopped a mere few inches away from him. He watched Nathaniel, probably waiting for an explanation.

“Did you want to step outside for a bit?” Nathaniel asked.

Andrew didn’t say anything at first, then turned with a wave to follow. Every step towards the door gave him little more relief, yet brought on a more insistent panic. He was so close, so close, so close. It seemed forever between Andrew pressing on the keypad, reaching for the handle. The echo of their footsteps up the stairwell, the second keypad with the buttons glowing red in near darkness.

Then they were in the sun. It was so bright he had to blink and blindly sense Andrew in front of him. He was solid and heat and even outside, Andrew was the closest thing to safety. Nathaniel followed him along the line of black brick and concrete until they reached a spot away from the door. He’d thought that once he stepped outside he could breathe and feel a little less like he was buried alive. Somehow the bright sun and fluffy white clouds only added to this feeling. He was aware of both the distance and proximity of the chain link fence and the road beyond. It was right there, and he couldn’t leave.

Did he want to leave? It was all he could think about. But he knew what would happen if he did.

The acrid smell drew him back into his body. Andrew held two cigarettes in his outstretched fingers and the smoke drifted up into the air and disappeared above their heads.

“Thanks.” Nathaniel took the cigarette to hold against his chest. Andrew took a drag of his.

“What’s wrong with you?” Andrew asked in his usual blank tone.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Nathaniel said automatically.

Andrew stared him down. Somehow Nathaniel had ended up trapped between the goalkeeper and the brick wall behind him. He should have felt worse caged in, but it felt more like Andrew was shielding him from the world beyond. He knew it was a paltry barrier, but he held onto the illusion of safety for those few moments.

Andrew’s hand pressed against Nathaniel’s chest, just above his heart with firm pressure. Only then did Nathaniel realize how short his breaths were, how fast his heart was beating. This happened sometimes over the years, when he’d wake up in the middle of the night with the taste of blood in his mouth, checking all over for wounds that weren’t there any more. Lately when this happened, he laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling until he felt nothing at all.

The heat of Andrew’s hand through his shirt, the pressure against his body, forced him to focus on Andrew. He held onto that feeling like an anchor, allowed his senses to zero in on that point, hard and consistent, until he didn’t feel half out of his skin.

“What did Riko do?” Andrew finally asked.

Nathaniel shrugged and Andrew dropped his hand. He didn’t want to talk about this with Andrew. Who knew what he would do? He didn’t want to make anything worse, especially for his would—be rescuer. In all his years running, he couldn’t afford to worry about anyone else, or care about losing them. He told himself it was logical to want to protect the man who had offered him an escape, who had protected him. It was the least he could do.

“He didn’t do anything,” Nathaniel said carefully.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Nathaniel shook his head. He didn’t want to lie to Andrew. It was kind of pointless after Andrew basically unfurrowed the major parts of his history, but it was his default. His built in protection. Still, Andrew had offered him something. He didn’t want to let Andrew down. There was a squirmy, uncomfortable feeling in his stomach at the thought of truly lying to him, so he gave him a kernel.

“He didn’t. It was the girls. I had to throw them out.”

Andrew’s frame tensed so slightly Nathaniel would have missed it if they weren’t standing so close together. Andrew stubbed the burning paper out against the brick and lit another with sharp, jerky movements. He took two hard, short drags and said, “What else?”

“They were… I don’t know.”

Andrew was furious. He could tell now. As much as Andrew liked to appear apathetic, Nathaniel had seen that rage unfurl before. It was dangerous to point that kind of anger in any particular direction. It wasn’t that Nathaniel wanted to protect the girls. He didn’t. He couldn’t care less about them or what happened to them. He was concerned about the consequences Andrew might face. He already had beaten the upperclassmen to a pulp. Even if Riko had no proof, if Andrew did something to the girls, Riko would know for sure.

On the other hand, the prospect of being able to protect himself was tempting. He felt powerless in here, anxious for some kind of escape. If he couldn’t get at Riko, he wanted to get at someone. He had held Andrew back before, with the upperclassmen. But Nathaniel was getting tired of being tread on.

“Did they touch you?” Andrew asked with the heated undercurrent of barely contained rage.

“Not after I threw them out.”

“Is that where you got the bruise from?”

Shit. Jenkins had a heavy right hook. His face was a little sore, now that he had calmed down enough to feel it. Andrew reached out to brush the skin without malice, but it was enough to send a spark of pain beneath his bones.

“I hit her back,” Nathaniel said.

Andrew nodded. He turned away and refused to say anything else about it. He smoked his cigarette, Nathaniel breathed in his, and they watched and listened to the still summer air.

 

There was someone in his room. He could feel them there in the darkness, between his and Jean’s bed. Under his pillows, his hands clenched at air instead of his gun. He needed something, anything——

“Neil.”

Andrew’s quiet voice broke through the stillness, a call to Nathaniel and an order to be silent. The fake name he wanted so desperately to be his own tore him away from shabby motel rooms and frantic first aid and tethered him instead to that voice.

“Come on.”

Nathaniel got up and followed Andrew through the dark without a word. He knew where they were going. The anxiety didn’t really hit him until they were outside the girls’ room. What was he supposed to do? Andrew hadn’t given him any instructions, and he’d never hurt someone before with his own hands.

Except that he had, thanks to Riko. Memories of his first few weeks in the Nest came back, vivid with the taste and smell of fresh blood. The thought sunk him into cold sobriety.

With one last look down the hallway, Andrew pressed a knife into Nathaniel’s hands. In Riko’s room, the weight of the blades had felt like a destiny he couldn’t get away from, bitter and heavy and metallic. Andrew’s knife was a comforting weight, a little warm in his palms with the remainder of body heat. They felt like savage protection. They felt like tendrils of power. His hands closed around them as he followed Andrew inside.

Before he closed the door behind him, he could see the girls asleep on the same bed from the glow of red light from the hallway. Nathaniel stayed close to the door, content to follow Andrew’s lead. The same barely there glow of red shone high above the door, marking four in the morning. It was just enough light to make out shadows in front of his face.

In two steps Andrew held one girl face down on the bed with his knee and the other tight by her hair. The girl facedown was fighting to breathe. Almost no sound escaped but for the fast, in-out struggles for breath against the mattress. Andrew must have had one hand against the upright girl’s mouth because Nathaniel could make out the same sounds of suffocation. Andrew was doing something to their faces and then hands, quick and efficient. When he stepped away Nathaniel saw how he had tied the girls, straight black shadows across their eyes and mouths.

Andrew didn’t say anything to them. He let them lay for a minute, waiting as they stirred and tried frantically to get free. Then when he was satisfied he flipped open a blade with a distinctive _click_. It was hard to see across the room Andrew’s exact movements, but he heard and felt the girls’ reaction. Their pause of breath, then sudden harsh intake through the cloth, the rustle of sheets and and bodies retreating into each other, and their muffled cries. Is that what he sounded like in Riko’s room? Is that what he looked like? Maybe he should feel bad about this, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t resign himself to be someone’s playtoy without a fight. He hadn’t been able to get a hand up, but now that one had been extended, he would take it.  

Andrew came back to the door silently, his face all shadows and red.

Nathaniel stepped past him just as quietly. His feet sank into the soft black carpet as he ran his thumb along the flat of the blade. He knew intimately how terrifying complete darkness could be, how helpless it felt not to be able to defend yourself, and especially the guilt over not being able to do so.

He didn’t want to hurt them, he told himself. Not really. He didn’t want to tear them open and watch the blood flow. He wanted them to leave him alone. But the heat of his blood rang like a siren song in his veins. The knife in his hand as never before seemed hungry and urged him forward. He held himself back from that edge. Neil, he said to himself. I want to be Neil. I want to be left alone. But Nathaniel, Riko called him in the dark. In this room, in the Nest, he couldn’t pretend for long. He couldn’t be innocent here.

He brought the tip of the blade under Carson’s chin and tilted it up. Her breath went utterly still. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t please him. _You don’t get to touch me_ , a voice said in his head. _You don’t get to hurt me._ He held the knife, and drew it light as a feather across her skin, enough for the skin to dent but not break. She shivered underneath his touch, and for some reason her fear only urged him on. He held the blade against her fingers at the joint where they met her palm.

“Touch me again,” he whispered, surprised by the venom in his voice. “And these will come off.”    

He didn’t sound like himself. He didn’t sound like Neil, didn’t sound like the scared run away, and he didn’t sound like the person he became in Riko’s room under his knife. This was something different, something he had always feared was beneath the surface but knew was there. He had pretended and lied to himself for so long. He needed to stop pretending if he was going to survive.

When they were done, Andrew knocked the girls out before untying them, and returned to his room without a word. Nathaniel slipped into his own room, listening closely to Jean’s steady breathing. He thought he was lucky all over again until:

“Have you just done something I need to worry about?” Jean asked.

Shit. Oh well.

“I’ll take the consequences.”

He could hear Jean scoff, but he said nothing else as they waited in uneasy silence for the morning alarm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading<3


	13. Conviction

The girls had nothing to say to Nathaniel the next few days. In fact, they ignored him as much as possible. Nathaniel and Jean ate their meals in peace. Jenkins even avoided him on the court as much as she could without drawing attention to it.

When Riko returned Sunday and stopped them after practice, Nathaniel’s whole body froze like a cornered rabbit. But he only wanted to play an extra round, he said. To hone Nathaniel’s slowly improving aim and power with his heavy because the master wasn’t satisfied with his progress.

The master had been grilling Nathaniel as intensely as the other freshmen. His heart dropped down to his shaking knees at every pass of the man behind him. Every bellowed word echoing off the court walls shook him to his bones. He knew it was illogical, that he should be more afraid of unpredictable, psychotic Riko instead of the master, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way. He felt the master’s presence like a physical weight, like there was a tether that connected Nathaniel to him, which the master could pull or cut at any time. He felt so fried lately, it was all he could do to fall into bed and try not to sleep for days.

He was convinced something was wrong by virtue of how smoothly the day was going. He knew he couldn’t have gotten away with what he and Andrew had done, had expected the consequences of his decision to fall on him the very next day. But this lack of it, the waiting, the questioning and uncertainty of whether he was actually caught or not, was keeping him tightly wound and off balance. He went to bed exhausted from the extra stress, not sure anymore whether he wanted to be caught. He was unwilling to believe he was that lucky.

Three nights later, he started awake. He couldn’t breathe. Warm palms pressed him down into the bed, one on his mouth, another on his shoulder. It wasn’t Andrew this time. These hands were rough and unrelenting, squeezing hard around his teeth, a thumb under his jaw and nearly covering his nose so that he couldn’t catch a breath at all. He reached for the arms holding him down, only for his wrists to jerk hard against sharp metal. He was handcuffed again with his hands over his head. Then he kicked out, drawing his knee up hard against the intruder. Before he could make impact, someone gripped his feet and sat squarely on his knees. That was either Kevin or Jean. He couldn’t be sure.

This was all so familiar. If he weren’t so terrified, he would be relieved to know he was finally caught. He wasn’t used to freedom, but this? Being trapped, inevitably returning to the awful place he’d never expected to really escape from? There was a kind of sick comfort that yes, he was right after all.

But right now, all he could think was how bad it was going to be.

Someone’s hot breath was against his ear, moist and far too close.

“So you like to play in the dark, Nathaniel?” Riko whispered, his voice hollow.

Nathaniel tried again to squirm away from the hard grip. His chest was burning for want of air. Riko’s hand on his shoulder moved and squeezed on a pressure point in his arm so that his body broke into sharp pain, all thought chased away by the blinding sensation. The room was spinning even as he couldn’t see it. He must be blindfolded, because he couldn’t even see the red of the wall clock.

“I do, too,” Riko said. “But you know what I really don’t like?”

Terrible pain exploded from his ear deep into his head. His ear hurt so bad he was sure Riko was about to tear it off. But he let go, and Nathaniel could feel himself sinking, sinking…

Air returned in a sudden, harsh gulp as Riko took his hand away. He gasped desperately, unable to struggle away or form words yet as Riko moved his shirt up to his neck.

“I really, really don’t like when people touch what’s mine. And I don’t like when you, Nathaniel, play games without me. That’s rude.”

Riko released the now aching pressure point which had Nathaniel moaning through the pain.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

What did he? He wasn’t sorry. Sure, he was scared and regretful now, but he wasn’t sorry. He would have done it again, even knowing it would lead to this. He would always end up back here, with Riko playing his sick games. Why shouldn’t he hit back while he could?

“Sorry,” he rasped. “Next time I’ll invite you. I know how much you love to play with knives.”

He couldn’t see it, but Nathaniel knew Riko well enough now that he could feel Riko’s face stretch into that awful hungry smile. Nathaniel was smiling too, even as Riko backhanded him hard enough for Nathaniel to taste blood.

Riko said, “You must love this. Don’t you? Why else would you continue to make such bad decisions. Do you want me to punish you?” Riko asked in a dangerously soft voice.

“I want you to go fuck yourself,” Nathaniel spat. He was sure there had to be blood in his smile. He swallowed what was there, but the taste remained.

Riko laughed, hard and broken. “I’ll admit, I like it better this way, too. So generous of you, Nathaniel.”

There was a heavy dip on the bed. Then the feel of skin around his hips, the weight of a body on top of him. Riko’s hands rested on his stomach, tracing the lines of his scars.

“What I’m wondering…” Riko said, then clicked open a blade. It was the same exact sound that Andrew’s made. “Is how you got the blades you used. None of mine are missing, and you don’t have any in your room.”

This was the part Nathaniel had really begun to dread. He didn’t let his smile falter, only cool. There sat squarely in his mind the resolve not to rat Andrew out. If he betrayed Andrew, his chances of escape decreased dramatically. And more than that, he discovered, he didn’t want to. He would rather endure pain he would face anyway to protect Andrew, than temporarily relieve his own fate. But Riko would make it a close call. He knew that.

“It doesn’t matter what I use, all I needed was something sharp.”

“You don’t say.”

Then Nathaniel heard a slightly different click, one he knew all too well. He could smell the lighter fluid and the flame. He wouldn’t scream, he told himself. He wouldn’t scream.

“Okay, Nathaniel,” Riko said slowly. “If you say so.”

This his world became white hot heat, a single spot low on his stomach. He panted through it, bit his lip so hard it bled. There were no thoughts, only the pain, and the words in his head. Don’t scream, don’t scream. Don’t say his name.

Finally the pain subsided to an awful stinging ache. He could feel and hear himself spitting and hissing through it, trying to breathe normally again.

Nathaniel could feel Riko’s breath on his tattooed cheek. He gripped Nathaniel’s hair hard in his hand until it stung, and pulled his face up toward him.

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about the upperclassmen who got hurt. I’m betting it was that good for nothing goalkeeper who helped you out. What I’d like to know is why he’s gone from openly picking fights with you to saving you and Jean. Is there something I should know, Nathaniel?”

There it was. The words he had been dreading so badly. His heart beat savagely in his chest, desperate to escape, desperate to be safe, safe, safe.

“I don’t need help taking down drunk assholes, Riko,” he rasped. They hadn’t been drunk, but Riko didn’t know that.

“Oh? So you did this all on your own? You, puny little Nathaniel that gets knocked over on the court half as much as he stands up?”

Nathaniel laughed. “I don’t have friends in here. You’ve made sure of it. But you know what,” he said, incensed by the same bloodlust from the other night. “I like it that way. I don’t fucking like any of you.”

“Hm,” Riko hummed. The lighter clicked again. “We’ll see.”

 

The world was so much cooler. His stomach was wet, and his body hurt in so many ways he couldn’t begin to list them off. His buzzing brain wouldn’t let him think in a straight line. He blinked in the yellow light of the lamp on the nightstand and tried to think. All he could remember was the unbearable bite of flame, and the horrid smell of burned flesh.

“Jean?” he called. He blinked again to clear his vision. And there was his unmistakable form, tall and dark haired, bent over Nathaniel.

“Don’t move,” Jean ordered. “I need to do this first.”

Nathaniel wasn’t inclined to move, but he also didn’t like the feel of hands on him. The thought made him itch madly all over. He shoved Jean away numbly, frantic. Jean’s hand pressed him back down hard, and that was so much worse.

“Jean, please— let me go—” he choked.

The pressure was lifted, and with it much of the immediate panic. Jean knelt next to him. He had been lain on the floor with a pillow underneath his head. There were two buckets next to him and a first aid kit. That was when Nathaniel saw the bruises on Jean’s face, a mess of yellow and purple.

“Fuck—”

“Don’t even start, Butcher,” Jean said dismissively. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Yes it does. You got hurt because of me.” But he’d known it would happen and he did it anyway.

“What’s new?”

If he had said this with acid in his voice, Nathaniel would have thought Jean was mad at him. Instead he seemed detached, like it didn’t matter. Almost like Andrew, except that Nathaniel could tell that it did matter, or it should. But that made no difference.

Uneven pockets of heat curled up from underneath Nathaniel’s skin all over his body. There were droplets of water on his body, and there was a sheet underneath of him that was soaked, either in water or sweat. He didn’t want to know which. He was stripped down to his underwear. Over his thighs and hips were the worst of those awful, deep pains, covered loosely in gauze. Save for one larger burn crossing an old scar. He’d have to take a cool shower and cover the wounds really well.

“This is going to be a bitch to wash with,” Nathaniel said.

Jean shoved him hard back down onto the pillow so that his head spun all over again. Nathaniel’s brain thudded and pulsed against his skull.

Carefully, Jean said, “Whatever it is you’re doing, you need to stop. I told you to make a choice.”

“I am, Jean,” he lied.

“Yeah, you’re choosing to be an idiot. I don’t know what you’ve got going on with Andrew, but—”

“There is nothing going on with Andrew, Jean! Why does everyone suddenly think that?”

Jean shook his head. “Keep going like this and you’re going to push Riko over the edge. Is that what you want?”

Only then did it come back to him, in a sudden awful rush. “Wait— did I—”

“No. Somehow you convinced Riko that you’re some murderous mastermind who likes scaring the fuck out of people because you wouldn’t give up Andrew’s name. Which is believable considering your heritage.”

Nathaniel took the gauze before his relief could show too much, and wrapped it gingerly around the last wound.

“Do you want to live?” Jean asked.

“Yes, Jean. Otherwise I’d have left already. That’s a stupid question.” He pressed the tape down with held breath. Fuck, he was not looking forward to practice.

“Then why do you keep fighting him? Do you not remember what I told you?”

Nathaniel put the gauze back in the first aid kit, avoiding Jean’s gaze. He felt too guilty.

“I can’t just roll over.”

“Do you think that’s what I did?”

The barest hint of anger bled through and it sunk into Nathaniel’s chest like a knife. Before he could say no, Jean kept going.

“Every day, every fucking day, Butcher, I hoped my parents would come back for me. I wasn’t just heartbroken. I was _pissed._ I made their lives a living hell in every way I could. The only reason it took so long for Riko to break me down was because he was still learning. Almost everything he knows now, _he knows from hurting me_.”

This was more than Nathaniel had ever heard from Jean about his history. He never spoke of it. Nathaniel was shocked silent, soaking up every word.

“He’s not like the master. The master has a _purpose._ Riko doesn’t, not in the same way. He wants us under his heel, but he _wants_ us to fight, too. He gets bored otherwise. And you, you fucking idiot, you keep giving him what he wants! He’s fucking miserable but you’re giving him the ride of his life!”

Jean was on his feet now, pacing the length between their beds like he was about to punch a hole in the wall just to make the space a little bigger.

“I fought back because I didn’t know any better, because I wanted to believe I wouldn’t become like Kevin, following him around, bowing my head, obeying his every command. But it didn’t matter. It got so bad, I finally did what I said I never would just so it wouldn’t last as long. I let it happen. I stopped fighting. So he just got more creative. One minute he’d be calm and the next he’d lose his mind. He hurt me in ways— you don’t—”

Jean cut himself off, sinking onto the bed with his head in his hands, gripping the roots of his hair in his fists. When he spoke again, his voice was that of a dead man.

“And now you’re here. Fighting him, like I did. Only you should _know better._ You don’t have a family. You don’t have anything but Exy. Damn it, Nathaniel.” Jean took shaking breaths, one after another, until he was calmed down. “I’m trying to make sure you have a piece of yourself left. This place will turn you into something different altogether no matter what you do. I’m trying to help you, and you won’t God damn listen!”

Nathaniel didn’t know what to say. Sorry was trite and didn’t cut it. Maybe there was nothing to say, but Jean decided for him.

“Let’s go. We’re about to miss breakfast.”

 

Practice was even more grueling and awful than he’d expected. Every movement, every clash of body against body, was agony. He was dripping with sweat and panting, gripping his racquet with white knuckles and using it to support his weight.

Riko stopped by on his way to the showers with a mocking smile, Kevin at his side. He didn’t know whether it was Kevin or Jean who had held him down, and at the end of the day, it didn’t really matter because they both had at different times. At this point, Nathaniel didn’t care enough to hold it against them. Nathaniel was just hoping that Riko wasn’t about to hold them back for a second practice, but for whatever reason, he didn’t. He did, however, order Jean and Nathaniel to clean up the court after everyone. It was a Herculean task that took forever, and nearly as long to shower and patch himself back up, too. By the time they were had eaten lunch there was only two hours until the next practice.

Andrew was laying in Nathaniel’s bed when they came back. After the last time someone showed up suddenly in his room, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He calmed down immediately when he saw who it was. Then his heart dropped. The buckets of water, piles of gauze, and soaked sheet were still on the floor. Between the evidence on the floor and his performance on the court, there was no hiding it even if he wanted to.

Their eyes met. Nathaniel was frozen in place in the doorway. Jean let himself inside and lay on his bed without a word or glance to Andrew. Maybe he’d expected it.

Nathaniel knew Andrew really wanted to talk when he spoke next in German.

“Follow me.”

Andrew walked past him into the hallway. With a short glance to Jean, Nathaniel shut the door behind him and followed.

Everything that was wrong went through his head. Had Riko hurt Andrew too? He hadn’t noticed anything off in practice except his own miserable performance. Was Andrew concerned that Nathaniel had said something to Riko? Did Andrew think he’d been ratted out?

He was silent as Andrew led them outside into the twilight, and silent as Andrew hid them behind one of the corners and lit their cigarettes. Nathaniel breathed in the smoke, just barely, so that he wouldn’t cough and hurt himself. Practice had already ripped open several of his blistered wounds.

Andrew was on his second cigarette before he spoke up.

“What did Riko do to you?”

Nathaniel didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to listen to the crickets and feel the humid air stick to his skin despite how the heat was hurting him. He wanted to stand out here with Andrew for the only part of the day where he didn’t feel like he was drowning.

“I didn’t say anything,” Nathaniel finally said, because that was the important part, as far as he was concerned. “I didn’t mention anything about you.”

Andrew accepted that in silence for a minute.

“Did he talk to you?” Nathaniel asked, cringing a bit at the choice of words. ‘Talk’ should imply civility, a lack of consequence. But that wasn’t Riko.

“No,” Andrew said. “Should I expect him to?”

Nathaniel shook his head and leaned gingerly against the brick wall. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure. Apparently he thinks I’m my father now.” He couldn’t hide the bitterness in his words, the way his mouth formed the words _my father._ Saying the words felt like summoning the devil. Unholy. Damning.

Andrew stubbed his cigarette out against the wall even though it was only half done, and threw it away. He took a step closer as if he were about to tell Nathaniel a secret.

“You aren’t your father, Neil.”

The words were digging at something he always kept buried. No one should look there, no one should unearth that, but Andrew was doing it anyway. Nathaniel shook his head as if to shake the sentiment out of his head.

“The way I was in that room. I wanted to hurt them. I wanted to make them bleed.”

“That’s not all,” Andrew corrected.

“No,” Nathaniel whispered. “I wanted them to leave me alone.” He didn’t mean to be talking, but it was coming out, like he’d been cut and he couldn’t stop bleeding and didn’t want to. “I thought, for once, I have a hand up and a way to make them stop, so I took it.”

“That’s not wrong,” Andrew said with hard conviction. Maybe he should have stopped to think about where that came from, refocused the attention back on Andrew, but he didn’t. He just kept going.

“I don’t want to be him. I don’t want to be a person that makes others hurt, but I can’t sit and let it happen.” Where was this coming from? He was saying too much, too soon. Too raw. Too honest. “I just want to be left alone but they won’t let me.”

Andrew stepped in closer. If it were anyone else, Nathaniel would have shoved them back, reclaimed his space before his chest broke out into panic. But Andrew was okay. It was illogical and stupid but Andrew felt safe, and it was okay. Andrew was the only thing that was okay.

Andrew hooked one finger in Nathaniel’s collar and tugged him forward just an inch, so that he couldn’t look away.

“You don’t need to hurt anyone to protect yourself. I can do it for you.”

“I can’t ask that, Andrew.”

“You aren’t. I’m offering. I’ll hold you back from being your father, if that’s what you want, too.”

Could such a thing be possible? It felt like Andrew were offering something that shouldn’t exist, that didn’t belong here in this space. It would be dangerous for him, every step of the way. Riko had made it clear since his first moment in the Nest that there was nowhere that was safe. No friends. No one to have his back. But the two of them had carved an impossible niche inside the twisted mess, just enough to break to the surface and breathe. He didn’t want to think about who he would have been if he hadn’t had Andrew to focus on.

Nathaniel took a shuddering breath. “You can’t touch Riko. Not unless I say I’m ready to leave, or if he touches you. If he touches you, I’ll hurt him.”

Andrew’s grip on his collar tightened. “I do not need you to watch my back. I need you to let me watch yours, if this is going to work.”

“That’s not fair.”

“That’s how it is.”

“Don’t touch Riko yet. You’ll die if you do. I’m certain of it.”

Andrew stared him down. Then, “For now.”

Then, because Andrew hadn’t said anything earlier, Nathaniel needed to say it again.

“I didn’t say your name. I didn’t say anything.”

“I believe you.”

Did he? Because it was important that Andrew knew, of all the things Nathaniel was— a runaway, a liar, a shadow of his parents— he would not betray Andrew. He might have on the run, but he wouldn’t now. He wasn’t sure where that strength came from, but it was there now, and he needed Andrew to know this.

Then Andrew closed the space between them, put his lips to Nathaniel’s, and everything else fell away. The Nest, the grounds, the wounds, the count down to the interview and first game of the season. There was only the softness of Andrew’s lips and the same unrelenting presence that was Andrew himself.

Andrew’s kiss didn’t take, didn’t demand Nathaniel kiss back. He offered, and Nathaniel followed along on instinct, the tilt of his head and slow give back of pressure that made Nathaniel want to lean in and never let go. In that moment, he never wanted it to end. He would have followed Andrew anywhere, on virtue of that first kiss.

Then Andrew pulled away, and there was the rough scratch of brick at Nathaniel’s back, the sticky air, and the fading light along the horizon. Andrew shoved himself off and away from Nathaniel and wiped his mouth. Then he stepped away again with his back to Nathaniel and lit another cigarette.

Nathaniel touched his fingertips to his lip and took slow, deep breaths. Andrew had kissed him. _Kissed_ him. The thought circled his head as if he couldn’t quite get the idea to stick. He didn’t know what that meant, and he didn’t know how he felt other than… it felt good. Nice. And he wanted to do it again.

“Andrew?”

Andrew huffed as if clearing his throat, sticking the cigarette in his mouth. “Go back inside.”

What? “Why?”

“Just go. I need a minute.”

Nathaniel was confused, but no longer panicked. He just… “I don’t understand.”

“Leave,” Andrew said. He gave Nathaniel the code for the door, and this time, Nathaniel did as he was asked.

Nathaniel moved in a haze through the halls on the way back to his room, retracing the conversation that led to the kiss, and then the kiss itself. How it felt, how warm Andrew was, and the sudden way in which Nathaniel wanted to pull Andrew closer. As his hand twisted the doorknob to his room, he realized this was exactly the kind of thing his mother had warned him about. He had gotten hurt because he was willing to protect Andrew— but he would have been hurt anyway. He wanted to tell Andrew who he was, wanted Andrew to know certain things about him— but he already knew the biggest, most dangerous parts.

Jean was on his laptop, laying on his back on his bed. The buckets and everything else had been cleaned up while he was gone

Did this mean Andrew was gay? Did this make Nathaniel gay after all? He didn’t think so. He’d looked at girls before it had been beaten out of him not to do so, but he’d never looked at boys. And he’d never wanted to get close, in any way, but especially not that way, to anyone before. It wasn't allowed before and it wasn't really allowed now, Riko's games aside. If Andrew was in danger before, this made it even worse. Andrew must know that, but apparently he didn’t care. He had been putting himself between Nathaniel and his nightmares again and again. This was different. This felt new, and exciting, and very, very dangerous. He knew altogether that that was a very bad decision, and also that he didn’t care about the consequences to himself. His body ached, and everything was hell, but that one small thing had made him so happy he was almost floating. He turned his back to Jean even though it hurt to lay on his side just so that he could smile in private.

He closed his eyes, and hoped Andrew wasn’t mad, and that if he was lucky, they would do it again. After Andrew had space to think, Nathaniel intended to find out what Andrew's retreat was about and if he had a chance.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading<3 I'll post again as soon as I can. I'm working on it, promise. It's more difficult to work on one chapter at a time as the story moves along, so I may post in chunks like this. Hope you're liking it!


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